#grenas

[tvbc]

I need a hairstylist. #poofball #thatmexicanhair #grenas #bleh

[gregnas-the-grouch]

The Cost of One's Self

Darkness, that was all the human could see for a while. Where was he? Vision blurred, mind filled with static, head pounding with a dull, throbbing feeling. Where was he? All he could remember was being on a routine patrol, and then... nothing, it hurt to much to think. His weary eyes tried to survey the area, even in the absence of light, his eyes were adjusting to the conditions, his head felt warm and sticky. He tried to move around, but his limbs were bound to what felt like a chair, his body propped in such a way that he was forced to sit in a rather uncomfortable position, his aching body didn't help much either.

But as he mused about his currently unknown situation, he paused as he heard noise coming from above. He wasn't sure at first, but as the thick haze in his head started to clear, he could make them out. There were two voices. One sounded old, bitter, crackling a bit and indifferent. The other was deep, booming, powerful and filled with a rage he could only fathom. He focused, trying to make out what they were saying.

"How many more of these blue bowl cut pricks are we gonna steal away, hmm? I already told ya I hate getting involved in other's business and you sure as hell ain't no exception to that rule either. Ya know, staying low and out of trouble, which I'm positive as fuck I'll be in once their boss finds out about this." The voice said with a bit of a slur, one might think the bitter sounding was a bit drunk. The other voice merely growled at it's lucid sounding companion friend.

"Yes, I am QUITE aware of the fact that you prefer to remain incognito. But I wouldn't have bothered calling upon your aid if I wasn't in need of it in the first place! And from what I can see, you certainly know how to make somebody disappear when you need them to. However, I cannot be sure if my... current supply of prisoners will be enough to supply me with the info I need, stubborn, misguided loyalty to their leaders. So if these should fail to bring me what I need, I pay you and you collect a few more for me." The angry voice snarled with barely contained anger, like it was going to explode at any moment.

At this point, both voices obviously belonged to males, but this isn't what concerned the immobile man so much. His memories were coming back, and at a rather fast pace too. He remember he was on a patrol with a squad of eleven others. They weren't the strongest in his unit's grunts, but they weren't a joke either by any other means. He remember they were in a forest... and something started to pick them off one by one. They sent out their pokemon to defend themselves, when they heard that laugh. It was such a terrible laugh, filled with psychosis and... bloodlust, yes, that was the word. That terrible presence as he watched that... thing tear his partners into meaty chunks. They never stood a chance, and as his human compatriots ran away, he saw it right in front of him before knocking him out. That wretched, burnt face, it's sadistic fanged smile, that blind eye staring at him, so pale, yet so lively.

The human struggled to get free from his restraints when he heard a door open. His back went stiff, and though his body languished in pain, he couldn't move a muscle, refusing to respond as something that could only be described as dread crawled up his spine. The sound of something heavy could be heard coming down what sounded like stairs before a dim light suddenly came on above him, making him wince as his eyes squinted from the sudden light. As he regained the clarity of his sight, he could not what he dreaded before him, but rather, a Dusclops.

The man stared at this ghostly visitor. The mummified ghost looked just like your standard Dusclops for the most part, thought heavily scarred. He couldn't tell, but this ghost had... a sort of powerful air around him, like somebody suddenly turned the heating up to it's max as it became difficult to even breath, let alone concentrate. But as the human regained her bearings, he noticed the state of the murky room itself. Dank, filthy and... dried blood around the chair he was in. Several metal tables laid before him, all dirty, dripping with blood and other liquids he could only guess at. Various tools were laid on them, hooks, saws, scalpels, jars containing clear liquids, syringes and even electrical cords. The human then knew what was going to happen as he stared at the Dusclops with growing fear.

"Tell me."

"W-What?"

"Tell me where she is, my beloved daughter, Methyll. A Gabite with an overly friendly disposition. You will tell me where she's at."

"I d-don't know what y-you're talking a-about! Please, j-just let me go already! I'll tell you anything you need to k-know, please just l-let me go... p-please?"

"I would almost be inclined to believe you if three of your other teammates didn't tell me that already. You see, I know that your unit is in charge of processing cargo and specimens in this region. And if you think feigning innocence will get mercy from me. I should let you know that I still have eight other people to go through. So you're expendable. Now, tell me where she is."

"... You know, I heard about you. You're that ghost who keeps interfering with our plans. Do you really think I'd risk betraying my boss and getting fed to Diablo? That's a road I'm not willing to go down, asshole."

"Is that so? Funny how your fear of that walking pile of lava makes you put on this brave bravado. But we both know it's a farce, a facade, a lie you delude yourself with."

"Fuck you, that's that."

"Oh my, you got quite the tongue there once you're put into a corner. I think I know how to start this little session of ours." The Dusclops said coldly as he pulled out a syringe and gently put the needle into one of those jars filled with the clear liquid. The human eyed it warily, trying to keep his brave look up.

Once it was filled completely, the Dusclops pulled the needle out and pressed down on it a little, the clear liquid spraying out and hitting the table, where the distinct sound of sizzling could be heard for a moment before dissipating. "Tell me, do you know what it feels like to burn on the inside?"

"No?"

"Well then, you're about to find out." The ghost said quietly as he suddenly took the human's right arm in his powerful grip and gently inserted the contents of the needle into his vein. Before the human could say anything, he felt a sensation starting to spread through his entire body. It felt like a burning feeling, but it went from a mere sensation into searing pain as his body was rocked with agony, to painful to even scream as his face became red and his eyes practically bulged out of his skull. Letting out moans of anguish, the human could only squirm as the Dusclops watched with an intense look of anger on his face. But that wasn't just it, it was enjoyment as well, for making this being feel pain. And he liked every second as the human's groans of pain carried upstairs.

A long figure leaned against the wall as Gregnas slowly took his time with the human. The lighting was hardly better up there, but the only thing one could see is a lighter producing a flame that illuminated the area around it. A face was exposed in the weak flame. Dirty, pale green hair covering the left side of what looked like a Gardevoir's face as it held a cigar in it's mouth with ambiguous dexterity, withered with age and battle. The noise didn't seem to bother him forever, but rather, make him smile, showing misshapen, sharpened teeth as the other side of his face was exposed when he rolled that cigar in his mouth. Badly burnt, his ear fins reduced to holes on the side of his head and a glassy, grey eye that swiveled uselessly in place. He chuckled a little at the pain the ghost was causing, his voice hoarse and congested.

"That's right kid, let it out, let it all out."