When Celia awoke again, it took a while for everything that had happened to catch up with her. There was so much to remember, both old and new, that the memories were getting jumbled and her grip on her personality kept leaping back and forth between the two hearts inside of her. It showed visibly on her too as the ashen effect on her skin shifted and melted all over her unlike anything it had done when she had been attacking the camp.
When Balia finally walked into the room where she’d been resting, she turned her head to stare blankly, still unable to see, and addressed her, confused.
“ßålïå” Her voice wasn’t quite back to the normal sweet tone of a little girl, but it cracked in and out. “చհąէ'ʂ հąքքҽղìղց?”
Celia did not agree. What did this fledgling god know? Could she be sure there were nearly as many innocents in that caravan as she believed? Celia certainly didn't think so. However, she was still too exhausted to hold a proper argument. The space between her thoughts and her mouth turned words to intangible mist, and only anger consumed the space it left behind, making her feel like a long-burnt candle. She turned away, her face contorted in frustration and disgust. Humans had taken everything from her. Her anger only renewed with the knowledge that they'd even taken that memory from her. She'd be damned if they took any more.
"I will feed in my own way." She had never needed human food. She had only enjoyed the taste- wait no. She needed human food, but she didn't. Did she still need to eat? Especially now that she remembered how to feed? Now that she'd engorged herself nearly to bursting on the tortured suffering of those she'd interrogated? Waves of confusion passed through her that showed on her face. "I- I don't need human food anymore. I remember how to feed. I don't-... I mean, I shouldn't have to... I don't think." But she was no longer just herself. She was we. Did her old ways still remain true?
Despite the brief stop outside the complex, the man got right back in the vehicle and drove them inside rather than take Esaias out of the cage. An unfortunately smart move on his part. Esaias rode past large numbers of stacked crates and even shipping containers. There was so much, he was sure there was more going on here than just human trafficking. He was willing to bet there were all kinds of smuggled goods and Pokémon in the crates he was passing, particularly the larger ones. Gradually, the began to approach a shipping container that Esaias could already tell was meant for him: it had several Ghost-types circling it and what seemed to be a guard stationed at its entrance, but, above all, it just looked wrong. It looked upsetting, cursed, otherworldly. It was definitely once a normal container, but some twist of fate or misfortune had altered it into a psychically unclean space. He did not want to be anywhere near it. A disgusted look crossed over his face and he involuntarily tried to back away from it. Looking at it made him feel sick, but he was sure that, even worse than that, the ‘dreams’ he was shown in there would be even worse than the usual. He hated this. He wanted to be gone. As he expected, they stopped in front of it, and Esaias instinctively kept as far away from it as possible. One of the ghosts swooped down and made a face that was supposed to terrify him. Normally, Esaias would have only given the ghost a deadpan stare that made it clear he was not amused, but with his already strained mental state, he couldn’t help but jump a little. The unfamiliar Ghost-type, clearly pleased with itself, cackled and floated away. The lift brought the cage to the ground and the guard opened the door to the container so the lift could push him the rest of the way in. It didn’t stop until he was halfway to the back.
It felt just as wrong inside as it did outside, and Esaias was starting to see why: suspicious stains were splashed across areas of the floor and walls with a few splotches on the ceiling for good measure. This container had seen more than one murder and worldly injustice. This was the last sort of place he wanted to be in. The sound of clanging metal behind him startled him back to attention, and now he was pushing himself to the opposite end of the cage, glaring daggers at the man who’d brought him here as he unlocked door to the cage itself. He was not going to let himself get taken! If he could get it at least one good, solid kick then maybe, just maybe he could find a way out. The chained lock came off, and the door opened, but the hand that he was expecting to reach in for him never came. Instead, the man backed up and laughed.
“Like it? Better get used to it ‘cause this is gonna be your new home for the rest of your short, miserable life,” he cackled. Esaias felt a growl rise in the back of his throat. “Down boy. It won’t be too long a stay, don’t worry. Enjoy your new home~” The man left out the door to the container which was promptly shut and locked behind him, leaving Esaias no way out. Hesitantly, he crawled out of the cage to explore the new surroundings; there was a dim light that hung in one corner above a bucket, both of which Esaias eyed with distaste. So the bathroom excuse wasn’t going to work here clearly. The opposite corner, where the light reached just enough that half of it was still enshrouded in shadows, was a bed. Esaias was 100% willing to bet it was hard as a rock. He sighed, walked over to it and sat down. It felt like sitting on a rock. As expected. But at least it didn’t feel like a sack of rocks. That was worse. He’d gotten that one before. He laid back on the bed, groaning at the feeling of his bound arms beneath him, before turning onto his side. Ugh. He felt so tired. Even though he was sure he’d slept for quite some time, probably at least a day, he still felt exhausted. It was probably the emotional toll of it all. The emotional toll and that prophecy. He grimaced at the memory. He was pretty sure the other person he’d been seeing, the shadow, was Celia. It had a similar presence. But he just couldn’t get his brain to piece together all the small pieces- and what did it matter? There was nothing he could do about it. He was likely going to be dead within the week if he didn’t find a way out of here. Right now, he had to plan. The disgusting man was thorough and, unfortunately, very right; there was no means for him to escape this place, and he couldn’t assume anyone would be able to find him with all the barricades in place. So he was going to have to play up his usefulness to the upmost- make it clear that someone of his abilities and talents was a rarity among rarities, and that it’d hopefully be enough to keep him in one piece.
The man wasn’t lying when he said it’d “be a bit”. The place Esaias had been offloaded was already out in the middle of nowhere- trees all around with only one vague path for anything to take, and even that was overgrown with roots and grass, making his ride very bumpy. He genuinely thought the cage would fall off a few times, and he both hoped for and dreaded it. It must’ve been at least another hour before they stopped again. At one particularly harrowing point where the lift had been passing by a sloping ravine, Esaias tried to force the cage to fall by slamming into one side. Yes he would have gotten very severely hurt, but it was better than what was going to happen otherwise. Unfortunately, that didn’t pan out as he’d hoped. The cage was actually secured to the lift by some means Esaias couldn’t see, and the clamor he was making alerted the man in the cabin, making him stop to come back and check the cage to make sure it was still secure.
“Nice try, kid,” he said with a cocky sneer. Then his face dropped to a scowl. “Don’t do it again.” Esaias remained silent but continued to shoot him a nasty glare all the while. For the remainder of the trip, he’d hunched over and sulked, just trying to remember as much of the route as possible. He didn’t even know if he was in the same region anymore. Even if he did escape, he’d have to use every bit of knowledge he had in order to make his way back to a town.
After a significant amount of time (Esaias couldn’t be sure without a watch, but it’d felt like it was at least an hour), they arrived at a fairly dilapidated warehouse. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him how it even got built because there was no indication of any civilization having ever existed nearby; it just looked like someone had taken a warehouse from a shipyard and plonked it down in the middle of the forest. To make matters worse, an incalculable number of Ghost-types were hovering around. Esaias himself didn’t have any issues with ghosts, but he knew this meant any psychic abilities that tried to reach him would be negated. A warehouse infused with ghostly energy… someone knew that’d Balia’d come looking for him eventually. He eyed the place warily as something seemed to superimpose over the building itself. It wasn’t a ‘natural’ place.
“Alright, we’re here!” the man called. “Don’t it look grand?” The man gave him a cocky sneer, no doubt knowing full-well exactly how it looked to Esaias. It felt like this man had prepared all this specifically for him too; the gilded cage, the steel cuffs, and now a psychic-proof hideout. It was like he dealt in Seers on a regular basis, which couldn’t be true. Seers were exceedingly rare, even among psychics. It wasn’t like they didn’t exist outside his village, but he doubted there were more than a hundred of them throughout the world. Definitely not enough to warrant setting up an entire market for Seer parts. So how on Earth…? Esaias shook his head. He could ponder that some other time. Right now he needed to be looking for possibilities for escape… something he definitely wasn’t seeing any of right now.
“I know it’s probably pointless to tell you, but there’s no getting out of this. I’ve checked, and double-checked, and triple-checked. There’s no way some kid is breaking out, even if he is a little smart. Even if you can get out, the Ghosts’ll tell me where you are. Just give it up.” Esaias elected to remain silent. His attempt earlier had made his intentions more than clear, but he was hoping a little that even if he couldn’t outright escape now that he could at least convince this guy he was worth more alive so he could escape later. It wouldn’t be easy, after all it’d be incredibly obvious that he was only vying for his life, and anyone with any common sense knew that meant he’d try to escape after he was sold to someone far less cautious, but he had looks, intelligence, and was inherently skilled at anything he tried his hands at; his only real demerit was his abilities and the misfortune they brought him, so he didn’t think it’d be an unreasonable task to undertake. Convincing this man that he was better as a slave than in parts wouldn’t be easy, but it was starting to seem like a better immediate option that trying to escape. “Still won’t say anything, huh? Well that’s fine too. I’ll go ahead and show you to your new home~ Not that you’ll be here long.” The cackle he let out made Esaias cringe. He wasn’t sure how long he had, but if he wanted to live, then he had to work fast.
He came out of it rather slowly, but, as his brain started thinking again, he was reminded of something and jolted upwards with all the subtlety of a kick to the head. He was still feeling very dazed and had an aching pain just about everywhere although his arms were particularly bad. Every muscle in his arms and shoulders was howling in pain, and it didn't take him long to figure out why: he'd been bound and thrown onto the unprotected floor of a steel cage. He tugged at it a little and cussed.
“Fuck. Bastards used proper cuffs.” Whoever this was, they weren't an amateur. It would have been so much easier if they were… He rolled his eyes, sighed, and began looking around to try and get his bearings. He didn’t have his cloak, and the daggers in his boots seemed to be gone. Damn, this guy really didn’t fuck around. His belt was also gone, but he’d expected that. No abductors were stupid enough to leave him with Pokéballs and a phone. As far as he could tell, he was still in one piece, but he knew that was only for so long. It was dark, so it was hard to see much further than the bars of the cage he was in even with the little glow his eyes gave off, but with the way he seemed to be jostling around, they were definitely moving. He was probably in a covered trailer being towed by some other car. Where was Celia? Had she been taken too? If she had, he didn’t have the confidence he could break both of them out. He could tell this was going to be a difficult escape even for him. “Celia?” No answer. He didn’t raise his voice much above a whisper, but he still would’ve thought she’d hear him. If she was here, then she wasn’t awake yet, but it’d be nice if she wasn’t. Since no one had responded to him earlier, he decided to try kicking the cage a few times to test the sturdiness, but it seemed the whole thing was very well soldered together. Today was seriously not his day. A wave of panic came over him as he realized that escape, at least right now, wasn’t possible. He had to calm down. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to think of a plan when there was a chance to escape. He had to stay as calm as possible. He had to-
The moving stopped. He looked around a moment, trying to figure out if they were just at a traffic light, but the longer it went, the worse of a feeling he got. He heard footsteps coming around the side and he could swear his heart dropped straight into his stomach. No. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face them yet. He wanted more time! Quickly, he decided on playing asleep. He hadn’t been awake more then half an hour; it was probably believable. He laid back down on the cold metal of the cage and closed his eyes, taking shaky breaths to try and calm the heart that was pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. The door opened, and Esaias fought to keep his breathing as quiet as possible, hoping in some deep, naïve part of himself that he wouldn’t be noticed, but he was jolted into a panic when the person kicked the cage with more the five times the force Esaias had used to test it earlier.
“Get up. I know you’re awake.”
Esaias bolted into a sitting position from the panic, shoving himself into the back corner of the cage as he tried to keep from having what he knew was going to turn into a panic attack.
“Can’t fool me, kid. I saw you on the camera.” The man jabbed his thumb towards a dark corner where Esaias could just barely make out a small, blinking, red light, and glared at it like it was the one who’d put him in the cage. “Not to mention, you were laying down the opposite way when I put you in there.”
Esaias sneered and clicked his tongue in annoyance. He’d really been hoping that would work.
Finally, Esaias deigned to look at the man who was speaking to him. He was either in his late 40s or mid-60’s with no possibility for anything in between, but his skin looked so leathery Esaias was sure it could be used for a chair. It wasn’t as dark as Esaias’ own olive skin, but the man definitely had the tan of someone who’d worked out in the sun most of their life. He had long dark hair that could have been nice if he bothered to wash it- it had a sickly sheen to it and had been combed back behind his head, although it didn’t seem like it was in a ponytail or a clip of any kind, and, had his attire been leather instead of denim, Esaias might’ve assumed he belonged to a biker gang with the boots and tattoos.
“So, what’re you? Judging from your tattoo you’re a Class 6 Seer. Pretty decent. Not common to see one of you make it to this age.” The man flashed a snide grin, and Esaias felt like he was going to puke. The reason he’d lasted so long was because he was definitely well-beyond a Class 6. His people appraised psychic ability alongside intelligence- the better a psychic you were, the smarter you were. He was definitely not going to bring up the fact that his abilities and intelligence had grown since he’d gotten that tattoo updated nearly half a lifetime ago. He knew it wouldn’t gain him any favors. He also didn’t want this bastard to get any more money for selling him off. “Well, be sure to make yourself comfortable, kid, because you’re gonna be in there for a bit.” Rather than opening the cage to take Esaias out though, the man just got behind it and pushed it towards the edge of the trailer. Esaias felt a spike of panic as the cage dropped, but it didn’t fall more than a few inches. Now he was being held up by an off-road lift of some kind. The man leapt out of the trailer and got into the cabin of the lift to drive off. “Better get comfortable, it’s gonna be a bit.”
He knew he’d fallen asleep, but something about it felt wrong. The feeling of it was fuzzy, like the world around him was playing out on an old television set. Had he been drugged? Probably. He couldn’t remember anymore, but he did remember being in a lot of pain and no small amount of agony. Now, though, now he was standing in an endless field of snow under a starless sky. Pure white snow fell from clouds that didn’t exist but vanished before it would land on him. A circle of deep red had pooled at his feet and was spreading out to the snow around it at a rather noticeable pace.
“This place again?” He’d had this dream before- it’d been prophetic, but nothing had come of it... yet. “That’s weird, I never have the same dream twice...” He looked around once, twice, three times, and the final time, upon whirling back around, he saw the form of a small girl. Standing off to his side she was as dark as the sky above him- a standing shadow. Small hiccups and sobs shook the tiny form and a pair of hollow eyes that he felt but couldn’t see started up at him.
‘Why?’ The voice sounded old and sad, like it had sat at the depths of despair for longer than anyone would care to think. ‘I don’t want this anymore- why?’
“I-... I can’t answer that.” He was surprised that he was actually able to speak, and a hand came up to cover his mouth only to find his lips gone- not just his lips, but the whole opening. He took a deep breath through his nose, having to remind himself not to panic.
‘They won’t stop taking things from me, even though I just want to be happy. Even though I was happy. She was enough for me, and they stole her, and now they’re going to steal the new one I got to replace her. Even though I finally replaced her. Even though I finally could stop.’
‘What are they going to take?’ Esaias wanted to ask, but now the words wouldn’t come out, and his vision was getting fuzzy. The shadow raised one of its arms, but he wasn’t able to make out what happened next as his vision went black. Everything was gone, but the dream was still continuing- he could tell because he could still hear her, wailing on and could feel a warm wetness on his hands.
He put his hands to his face, but, just like the previous time, his eyes were no longer there- the sockets around them had caved in and something warm ans wet was streaming out. A nagging knowledge poked out from the recesses of his mind- this prophecy was not as figurative as he’d made it out to be; this prophecy was literal. He had to wake up. He had to wake up now. Dammit, if only Celia had been snooping on his sleep more often, if only he hadn’t told her to cut it out then maybe he could get a message to her somehow. Whatever had resulted in him being put in this position, it wasn’t safe. They had to leave. Fast. But, no matter what he did, he couldn’t get himself to wake up. He couldn’t stop the dream. It just kept going on and on, the pool of red around him growing ever outwards.
The words were a horrible, inhuman screech that was more felt than heard. It was a voice of true agony; the sound of everything one loved being ripped away; the sound of broken hearts; the sound of anguish, despair, and all consuming hatred. People covered their ears in hopes of keeping the sound out. In vain. It shook their hearts and minds, violently, and several of the less mentally sturdy individuals collapsed. One girl was unaffected by the sound, staring forward at the demented creature, unblinking, unseeing, and the creature swallowed her. Two adults behind her screamed, leasing cries of their own. But the one girl wasn’t enough, it wanted all of them, their hearts, bodies, and souls. It wanted vengeance for the fallen, so it screamed and screamed and screamed.
Celia bolted up, not sweating, but still breathing a little bit harder than usual. It had’t been a dream. She didn’t have dreams. Whatever species of Pokémon she was, it was the kind that lived on the dreams of others, not the kind that made dreams of their own.
No, that had been a memory.
But what role did she play in that memory? Of course she had to be the little girl, right?
Or was she the monster? Because that pain felt so familiar...
