Revenant (rated-R)

[SilentMemento]

Approval: This fic has been permitted by Dragonfree.

Credit: This fic is dedicated to Breezy. Without her advice on how to make the fic realistic, this idea would have probably been left to rot in the recesses of my mind. I also have to thank Psychic, whose extremely helpful review made me realize what I was doing wrong in the first entry. I’ve decided to rewrite the fic to truly get into the Horror genre like I should have done the first time.

Warning: This fic is in the Horror genre, although it’s not the blood-and-guts type of “horror” that you normally see in films like Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street, etc. This type of horror is psychological, so anyone who is expecting to see anything beyond the typical violence that’s normally in a PG-15-rated fic is going to be disappointed. However, this fic does have the potential to really scare people, so stay away if the Horror genre isn’t your cup of tea. Also, this story has semi-frequent profanities and hints of drug abuse in it. Just letting you know beforehand.

Disclaimer: I don’t work for Nintendo or any of its affiliates. I don’t own any of the creatures that were created for the series. I don’t own anything in the Pokemon franchise. I don’t have anything to do with Dead Space (which gave me the idea for the setting of an abandoned and decaying spaceship) or the Twilight Zone (which gave me the idea for the theme). However, the characters that will be seen are solely mine. The plot itself is my idea.

Summary: The timeline is 200 years after the present day. The Pokemon League Armed Forces (PLAF) crushed the United Anarchy (UA), a terrorist cell and their only opposition, twenty years ago. As a result, it turned itself into a totalitarian government. Overpopulation has become a problem for both humans and Pokemon alike, and the PLAF has decided to use colony ships in space as a result.

Children are now chosen for jobs at the age of ten and are given two Pokemon who will be their companions for the rest of their life. The space business has a need for military space engineers (MSEs), people who are sent to spaceships that send out distress signals in order to fix whatever is wrong. At the age of nineteen, the kids are given a job that they have to do on their own with no help from anyone except their Pokemon.

Claude Pokulok, a nineteen-year-old MSE with multiple demons, is going through his own trial-by-fire. His job is to respond to the distress signal of the S.S. Revenant. He thought that the job would have no problems. He also thought that his past had been buried deep enough to cover every mistake he made. He was wrong on both counts, and the truth that threatens to reveal itself could break him – if the entity stalking the ship doesn’t break him first…

And now, without further babbling, let the chapter commence:

Chapter One

…

Space is supposedly the final frontier. Darkness reigns supreme from its throne, a throne decorated with the bones of foolhardy travelers and tireless workers who make their living in the vastness of the galaxies.

Many dangers lurk in space. There are the devastating supernovas, which incinerate ships that are unfortunate enough to venture into their vicinity. There are wormholes that rapidly age others, since time travel by the means of anything other than legendary Pokemon has always been (and will always be) nothing more than a desperate wish. There are meteors that have annihilated ships and sent the broken corpses of their crews into the abyss. There are even Pokemon that reside in the depths of space that are rarely seen and hardly ever recorded. Not all of them are friendly.

Still, that didn’t deter humanity from their desire to conquer the final frontier. One such example was a white ship that cruised at a speed that was faster than light. It was an old carrier ship that had been spared from the scrapheap more times than it should have, but it was still reliable and surprisingly durable, especially considering the amount of cargo it had carried over the course of sixteen long years. It had the same streamlined shape that a Sharpedo possessed – if the Sharpedo happened to be a gigantic machine that was at least thirty times bigger than the shark-like Pokemon itself.

Normally, this nameless spacecraft would have carried cargo to one of the many colony ships that had been sent into the black void. While the destination was a colony ship that went by the name of the S.S. Revenant, the mission was anything but a peaceful rendezvous, and the only cargo it contained was enough food for the occupants inside. The small ship was responding to a distress signal that had been sent three days ago, before all contact between the command center and the Revenant had been severed.

The mission and its importance were of no concern to MSE Second Class Claude Pokulok, who thrashed around, trapped within the throes of a vicious nightmare that had been his curse for a little more than four years.

…

The darkness was overwhelming. Swirling gray mists were the only thing that Pokulok could discern from the black veil. His breath was shallow and ragged, as though he was dying slowly. A dull throb was emanating from his stomach, its intensity slowly growing with each passing second. He felt - no, he knew that he was being watched by someone…or something. Fear began to break down the outer corners of his mind, penetrating his small sanctuary and corrupting his thoughts. The fear was strong enough to fully paralyze him, and a part of him felt that he wasn’t going to make it out alive.

Running was out of the question; he would find him, no matter how far he tried to flee. Fighting him was just plain stupid; he was older and more experienced. The teenager couldn’t see any other option aside from death. Then he heard him.

“I see you, Claude!”

Pokulok lashed out with his right foot, but there was nothing to hit in the darkness. His eyes began to dart from side to side, showing no emotion other than sheer panic.

“I just want to talk to you…”

The young MSE didn’t trust the hurt tone that he put into the voice. He was trying to trick him, just like what happened four years ago…

“Leave me alone!” the teenager yelled, trying to back away from the source of the voice. “I hate you! I hate you more than anyone else in the wor-” His voice trailed off the second his back hit a wall that he didn’t see. He then realized that it wasn’t a wall.

Before he had the chance to react, Pokulok felt the air get choked out of him by a vice grip. He clawed at his neck, but there was nothing there. No wire, no cord, not even a pair of meaty hands could be felt around his windpipe. He was being strangled by something intangible. The pain in his stomach had reached a crescendo. He felt like he had a monstrous infant inside of him, trying to claw its way out of its pregnant host.

A grimy hand clutched at his shoulder, the long fingernails cruelly digging into his skin. A man’s face moved just far enough for Pokulok to see a few features, such as a squashed nose, a square jaw, and a small tight-lipped mouth, which opened up to reveal blackened teeth.

“Remember me, Claude?” the face asked. The young MSE tried to reply, but he couldn’t speak at all. He wasn’t sure if it was the fear or the lack of oxygen. The face disappeared into the darkness, but he was still suffocating.

Strangely enough, Pokulok’s vision wasn’t fading. In fact, he seemed to see things even clearer. The mists parted to reveal a girl about three years younger than he was. Her looks were, in his opinion, better than most models. She had stunning green eyes to go along with long sandy-brown hair that fell just past her shoulders. The only article of clothing she wore was a skintight crimson jumpsuit that was somehow both serviceable and alluring. In fact, a small red line across her throat was the only visible blemish on what Pokulok thought was a beautiful young woman.

“Claude,” she said quietly, her disappointment evident in her tone. “Why have you forgotten about me?”

His eyes widened. He made mute sounds that tried desperately to tell her the truth, to say exactly what he had been doing, but no words escaped his lips. That only served to annoy her.

“You haven’t contacted me at all,” she continued. “I missed you, Claude. Why haven’t you missed me?”

She put her hands on her throat and pulled against the red line until her skin stretched and ripped. Her head tilted backwards until it was hanging in a position that could only have been achieved in death. Pokulok would have screamed his lungs out if he was not already running out of air. As it was, the silent sounds of terror and anguish hardly seemed to faze the sixteen-year-old girl, who snapped her head back into place, seemingly without a care in the world.

“Claude, don’t you want to see me again?” she asked sorrowfully.

The gruesome images still taunted his fraying mind, but he nodded his head twice. He wanted to see her again, if only to tell her how truly sorry he was.

She took something out of her pocket. It was a combat knife that was the same color as her jumpsuit. The blade was covered in drying blood. She flipped the knife until the handle was pointed at him. The teenager noticed that despite the fact that the blade cut into her fingers, she wasn't bleeding.

Pokulok suddenly realized what she was suggesting. He tried to protest, but no noise reverberated from his tongue. The girl looked at him piteously.

“You have no idea how lonely I am, Claude,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I just want to see you again. I know that it’s your life, but I wouldn’t ask without a good reason.”

The agony in his stomach was unbearable, and he was struggling to draw even one breath. Without any hint of rationality behind his thoughts, he looked at the pros and cons, and the only two things he could think of were both pros. He could not only get rid of his internal pain and remorse, but he would truly get to see the girl that he loved, and nothing, not even the omnipotent forces of life and death, would stop them from meeting. Still, a tiny voice of reason tried to dissuade him from committing to this action.

But it’s your life she’s talking about!

Shut up. You know damn well that it’s better for everyone this way.

Pokulok grabbed the knife from her and plunged it into the left side of his belly with a sick grin. He started to weave the blade in a meandering pattern, stopping at the right side. Blood was just beginning to pour from his stomach as he ripped the knife out of his crimson-soaked body and dropped the dripping blade. The mists started to swirl around his eyes once more, but the darkness followed it almost immediately…and this time, it swallowed everything whole until the only thing that existed was nothingness.

…

Pokulok woke up in a cold sweat. His whole body was trembling like he was a newborn Growlithe, and his abdomen felt like it was being roasted over a fire. He rolled to his left side and fell out of the king-sized bed he was lying in, letting out a soft groan as he hit the hardwood floor. He felt the bile rising in his throat like a tidal wave, threatening to overtake him if he attempted to hold it all back. He started to crawl towards the restroom, feeling too weak to stand. Two concerned voices were echoing in his head, but he couldn’t decipher the words that they were saying.

He managed to make it to the bathroom, but he couldn’t make it to the toilet. He violently vomited all over the cold linoleum floor, feeling the vile substance spill over his throat like it was a river. His gut wasn’t satisfied with that display, and Pokulok ended up dry-heaving for at least two more agonizing minutes. A disgusted look came over his face when he noticed that most of his fingers were covered in his sick.

Worst of all, his stomach was still in pain. He somehow managed to stand, using the marble sink countertop as his support. A nearby mirror imitated his motions, as he turned on the cold water. He furiously scrubbed his hands with a bar of soap and dipped them in the water until everything was washed off. Pokulok then took off his shirt and flung it away from the disgusting puddle. Using his right hand to hold himself upright, he traced the serpentine scar that went from one side of his stomach to the other side. He knew that he was lucky – if that wound had occurred in his chest, he would have likely died. After all, permanent pain was a fair trade for sparing one’s life, was it not?

He stared into the mirror, looking at his pale, haggard appearance. His cropped light-brown hair was sticking out everywhere, and his icy-blue eyes were bloodshot, which gave him the look of a long-time insomniac. He was five inches over six feet, but his rail-thin frame made him seem like a starving prisoner-of-war. He put his other hand on the countertop, hanging his head in exhaustion.

(Claude!) a scared voice cried out. (Tell me you’re okay, please?)

The young MSE turned around to see a gray metallic bird look at him with cautious yellow eyes. The avian creature preened his red feathers nervously.

(Claude, don’t you ever do that to us again!) a second voice worriedly stated in a tone that held a small amount of anger in it.

He turned to his right side to see his other Pokemon – a virile, white cat-like beast with a black sickle-shaped horn – staring at him with a pair of glowing red eyes. His black scythe-like tail lashed from side to side, and his sharpened black claws sheathed and unsheathed in anxiety.

The adolescent let out a sigh. He realized that he had forgotten to switch his translation aids from the Pokemon language to human English again.

“Faitios, Deifir, I’m fine,” Pokulok said quickly, looking at the Skarmory and the Absol respectively. “You both sound like my mother…”

Faitios ruffled his wings to hide his fearfulness, while Deifir looked at the floor distastefully.

(You don’t look fine,) Faitios said quietly. (It’s your withdraw-)

“Shut up!” Pokulok snarled viciously. “Shut your goddamned beak!”

The Skarmory looked like he was about to burst into tears. Deifir immediately noticed his friend’s feelings and reacted hastily.

(Hey!) the Absol growled angrily, lashing his tail again. (Faitios did nothing to deserve that! If you don’t have anything nice to say to someone who’s being nice, you shouldn’t say anything at all.)

Pokulok sat down, feeling rather dizzy and extremely remorseful. He put his head in his hands and curled up into a ball.

“I’m sorry, Faitios,” the MSE said in a cracked voice, struggling not to cry himself. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you; that was completely wrong on my part. Deifir, thanks for doing that. I needed it.”

(Claude, you’re going to need to face your demons at some point,) Deifir said calmly. (It wasn’t your fault. There was no way you could have…)

The white-furred mammal must have seen the pained look on the youth’s face, as he immediately looked down at his paws without saying another word. Pokulok’s eyes took on a distant look. He stared at the ceiling, no longer trying to hold back any tears.

“Andrea,” he murmured inaudibly. “I’m so sorry…”

…

Author’s Note: Here are the pronunciations of the names, so that people aren’t confused about how to say the names of the main characters.

Pokulok = Poe-ku-luk. (Luk is pronounced as “luck”).

Faitios = Fah-teez. (Fah sounds like the first syllable in “father”).

Deifir = Def-er. (The name as a whole sounds like “deafer” in the English language).

I hope that the pronunciations help, and I hope that you’re enjoying this fic.

[NinjaScepSneasel]

Wowsers. You can really tell that you have had advice and help from Breezy and Psychic, I thought it was really good. I couldn't really pick anything out as imparitcularily berre than anything else - it was nearly all good, impresive. I feel rubbish at reviewing now, but it is the truth.

The places which needed development were mainly description. You could have described what people were wearing better, and as far as I noticed, you could of described the areas better. Also, I got a bit lost and confused at places.

Overall, awesome, in a word.

[Breezy]

Darkness reigns supreme from its skeletal throne, a throne decorated with the bones of foolhardy travelers and tireless workers who make their living in the vastness of the galaxies.

There are even rare Pokemon that reside in the depths of space that are rarely seen and never recorded. Not all of them are friendly.

I feel like you're being redundant slightly. I can get what you're doing with the first sentence here, but I still feel like the "skeletal" isn't needed. The first "rare" isn't really necessary. If they are "rarely seem" we can assume that they are "rare."

And idk. Never recorded? I figure the more rare they are, the more you try to record data on them, even if it is skimp.

Nitpicks, whee.

Still and all, that didn’t deter humanity from their desire to conquer the final frontier.

That's new. "Still and all?" What does that mean?

One such example was a white ship that cruised at a speed that was faster than light. It was an old carrier ship that had been spared from the scrapheap more times than it should have, but it was still reliable and surprisingly durable, especially considering the amount of cargo it had carried over the course of sixteen long years.

This is ... interesting. I had to push my suspension of disbelief a bit to be okay with this, though it does make me wonder about the technology. If even an old carrier ship made of scrapheap can cruise faster than the speed of light (phew, I'm okay =P), I wonder about the other technological wonders that are, I assume, better than this scrapheap.

The structure of the first section was a little strange, but it worked considering what you're writing. I know this has sci-fi elements (well, I am assuming it does since it takes place in the far, distant future), so the way you kind of summarized-but-then-kind-of-didn't what was going was kind of reminiscent of the way some old sci-fi shows open. Plus it made the last line involving Pokulok a lot more powerful and jarring (in a good way).

He felt, no[color=red;[/color] he knew that he was being watched by someone…or something.

I get what you're doing, but you're better off with a dash instead of a semicolon. The pauses you created are slightly off, IMO (his train of thought would break after the "felt" not the "no"). I'd actually rework so its

He felt -- no, he knew that he was being watched by someone...or something.

I definitely enjoyed your second section, if that's weird to say. Even though we're literally in a dark room, you describe everything wonderfully. You can really sense Pokulok's panic and pain. I liked the choking scene especially. T'was intense; I especially liked your word choice in that section.

Actually, I take that back; the following "dream" sequence with the girl and ripping at her throat and having her head hang over is just spooky imagery. Lots of throat symbolism. Wonder why. Was she decapitated and he saw it happen? I'm also wondering about the stomach pain.

(By the way, I'm reviewing as I read, so if I'm stating stuff that is seen later in the story ... sorry. Lol.)

For the most part, you did describe that scene quite nicely (in a gruesome way, of course), and perhaps I have a strong stomach, but it wasn't too eye-gouging, holy-crap-what-is-going on either. It was just enough to make your face twist and enough for me to personally sympathize with Claude. Or Pokulok.

His whole body was trembling like he was a newborn Growlithe, and his abdomen felt like it was being roasted over a fire.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fiiiire ... Sorry, couldn't help it. I'm a little insane right now.

A nearby mirror imitated his motions, as he turned on the cold water. A small jet cascaded from the faucet.

You tend to do this "here's what he did, and here, if you don't get what the simple meaning meant, is a more detailed, fancier explanation of the simpler phrase." There's was one earlier with "He fell out of bed. He landed on the ground" (of course written better). If he turned on the cold water, we can safely assume water is coming out of the faucet. If he rolled out of bed, we can assume he fell on the floor. I mean, not unless he landed in jelly, or the faucet let out blood would you want to mention that the usual causal inference isn't the usual causal inference.

He was five inches over six feet, but his rail-thin frame made him seem like a starving prisoner-of-war.

I don't get the correlation.

Anyway!

I do like the setup for the most part, starting with the dream and leaving readers to come to our own conclusions about what's going on with this kid before bringing us back to reality and giving us some hints about what actually happened. So Claude was bitten by a snake of some sort at the stomach, hence the pain in both reality and his dream. I assume he wanted to save Andrea but couldn't and she died. And now he feels sorry. Yet there's still a lot of questions to be answered, like what exactly happened and how exactly Andrea died and if there are more demons Claude has to deal with. I'm going to go with yes. I don't really remember your first draft nor the exact tips I gave you (besides something about a collar -- is that still here?), so I feel like I'm in for a surprise.

I'll check in for the next chapter.

[SilentMemento]

Wowsers. You can really tell that you have had advice and help from Breezy and Psychic, I thought it was really good. I couldn't really pick anything out as imparitcularily berre than anything else - it was nearly all good, impresive. I feel rubbish at reviewing now, but it is the truth.

The places which needed development were mainly description. You could have described what people were wearing better, and as far as I noticed, you could of described the areas better. Also, I got a bit lost and confused at places.

Overall, awesome, in a word.

You're not rubbish at reviewing; you told me what I needed to improve on. That's what a reviewer should do, in my opinion. The reason why I'm going so light on the description is because I don't want to fall into purple prose, which can get boring. I will try to improve the things you mentioned though, as there's no excuse for me not to do so.

That's new. "Still and all?" What does that mean?

That's something I read from Tolkien (at least, I believe it was Tolkien. If not, it's probably someone like Hawthorne or Poe). It's basically a longer version of "still" back in the day, and I used it a fair amount in another story that I wrote. It probably doesn't have a place in this story, so I've taken it out.

This is ... interesting. I had to push my suspension of disbelief a bit to be okay with this, though it does make me wonder about the technology. If even an old carrier ship made of scrapheap can cruise faster than the speed of light (phew, I'm okay =P), I wonder about the other technological wonders that are, I assume, better than this scrapheap.

That's still something that I'm trying to figure out. Science and math aren't my strengths.

The structure of the first section was a little strange, but it worked considering what you're writing. I know this has sci-fi elements (well, I am assuming it does since it takes place in the far, distant future), so the way you kind of summarized-but-then-kind-of-didn't what was going was kind of reminiscent of the way some old sci-fi shows open. Plus it made the last line involving Pokulok a lot more powerful and jarring (in a good way).

I managed to do the exact opposite in the first version of this story. I went too far into the sci-fi (something I'm not that good at) and didn't delve into the horror (which is something I'm decent in). This time, I'm doing things differently, so that it can be a lot better than it was.

I definitely enjoyed your second section, if that's weird to say. Even though we're literally in a dark room, you describe everything wonderfully. You can really sense Pokulok's panic and pain. I liked the choking scene especially. T'was intense; I especially liked your word choice in that section.

Thank you very much. That's exactly what I was trying to go for.

Actually, I take that back; the following "dream" sequence with the girl and ripping at her throat and having her head hang over is just spooky imagery. Lots of throat symbolism. Wonder why. Was she decapitated and he saw it happen? I'm also wondering about the stomach pain.

    Spoiler:- small story spoiler:

Show Spoiler

 
You're partially right about the decapitation bit. I'm not going to say what part is right, though.
 

(By the way, I'm reviewing as I read, so if I'm stating stuff that is seen later in the story ... sorry. Lol.)

There's no need to be sorry. I don't care how a person reviews my story, as long as they told me how I could improve. You've done just that, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

For the most part, you did describe that scene quite nicely (in a gruesome way, of course), and perhaps I have a strong stomach, but it wasn't too eye-gouging, holy-crap-what-is-going on either. It was just enough to make your face twist and enough for me to personally sympathize with Claude. Or Pokulok.

This is just the first chapter. One part in the second chapter alone is probably going to be a lot scarier than this one.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fiiiire ... Sorry, couldn't help it. I'm a little insane right now.

Oh, we're all mad at certain times. Nothing to be sorry about.

You tend to do this "here's what he did, and here, if you don't get what the simple meaning meant, is a more detailed, fancier explanation of the simpler phrase." There's was one earlier with "He fell out of bed. He landed on the ground" (of course written better). If he turned on the cold water, we can safely assume water is coming out of the faucet. If he rolled out of bed, we can assume he fell on the floor. I mean, not unless he landed in jelly, or the faucet let out blood would you want to mention that the usual causal inference isn't the usual causal inference.

Thank you for mentioning that. I've fixed that, as well as the other parts you mentioned. I'll try to improve that in the next chapter.

I don't get the correlation.

I was trying to say that he was extremely thin for his height, which isn't really imposing when you consider that Pokulok is in the military. I apologize for not making that clear.

Anyway!

I do like the setup for the most part, starting with the dream and leaving readers to come to our own conclusions about what's going on with this kid before bringing us back to reality and giving us some hints about what actually happened.

That's something that I always prefer over blood-and-gore horror. Subtle hints are a lot more interesting to read and write about.

So Claude was bitten by a snake of some sort at the stomach, hence the pain in both reality and his dream.

Um...I was trying to say that the scar was serpentine in shape, not that he was bitten by a snake. I apologize for not explaining that better.

I assume he wanted to save Andrea but couldn't and she died. And now he feels sorry. Yet there's still a lot of questions to be answered, like what exactly happened and how exactly Andrea died and if there are more demons Claude has to deal with. I'm going to go with yes.

Naturally.

I don't really remember your first draft nor the exact tips I gave you (besides something about a collar -- is that still here?), so I feel like I'm in for a surprise.

The collar's still here, but that's all I'm going to say. I don't want to spoil the surprise.

Again, thank you both for taking the time to review my story. I'm extremely grateful that you did so, and I'll take the time to improve on the things you mentioned.

[shinjiniisan]

Liked it... keep going like this

[moonlightning]

Space is supposedly the final frontier. Darkness reigns supreme from its throne, a throne decorated with the bones of foolhardy travelers and tireless workers who make their living in the vastness of the galaxies.

Nice opening, sets a scene of danger and mystery

The young MSE turned around to see a gray metallic bird look at him with cautious yellow eyes. The avian creature preened his red feathers nervously.

He turned to his right side to see his other Pokemon – a virile, white cat-like beast with a black sickle-shaped horn – staring at him with a pair of glowing red eyes. His black scythe-like tail lashed from side to side, and his sharpened black claws sheathed and unsheathed in anxiety.

I like what you did with the descriptions. You don't state exactly what they are until later buy still paint a really vivid mental picture. The skarmory seems less "Pokemon" and more animal in the description which was interesting.

“Andrea,” he murmured inaudibly. “I’m so sorry…”

Ooh cool ending.

In general I really enjoyed this, I have never really read any fiction "in space" and I'm sure the Pokemon will just enhance this, right? Plus your writing style is dark and gritty which was really cool. (Cool because writing in the early morning gives you no synonyms.)

You said it might have been left to rot in the recesses of your mind? It is in mine anyway, I'm sure I will think about this for quite some time now.

A really interesting and emotive read, nice to meet you SilentMemento!

[SilentMemento]

Chapter two is (finally) finished! However, I should probably answer the previous poster before I go on. And so, here's my review reply:

Nice opening, sets a scene of danger and mystery

Thank you. That's what I was trying to go for.

I like what you did with the descriptions. You don't state exactly what they are until later buy still paint a really vivid mental picture. The skarmory seems less "Pokemon" and more animal in the description which was interesting.

I figure that Psychics, Ghosts, and Legends are about as close to humans (in terms of intelligence) as a Pokemon can get. The others seem more animalistic (instinctive) to me. Of course, this is just my opinion.

Ooh cool ending.

Thank you.

In general I really enjoyed this, I have never really read any fiction "in space" and I'm sure the Pokemon will just enhance this, right? Plus your writing style is dark and gritty which was really cool. (Cool because writing in the early morning gives you no synonyms.)

I never really saw any Pokemon fanfictions that were in the future. When you add my love of Dead Space into the mix, I had to write something like this.

You said it might have been left to rot in the recesses of your mind? It is in mine anyway, I'm sure I will think about this for quite some time now.

That's what I was hoping for. I want people to remember this fic.

Well, I guess that I should post up the chapter:

Chapter Two

...

"Andrea, I'm so sorry..."

Claude managed to stand up and walk toward a storage closet. He found a mop and quickly cleaned up the mess he had made. As he turned to walk out of the bathroom, his two Pokemon greeted him with cheerful faces, and in spite of his despondent thoughts, their positive mindsets managed to stir a ghost of a smile from the adolescent.

“What’s with the funny faces?” he asked in his unnaturally hoarse voice.

(Nothing,) Faitios said. His eyes held a mischievous look in their depths. (You just reminded us of the bet you lost when you were thirteen.)

Pokulok’s smile instantly faded. “Please stop,” he muttered with gritted teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

(At least you followed through when you lost,) Faitios snickered, oblivious to his trainer’s emotions. (Besides, you actually looked good in a dr-)

(Stop embarrassing him,) Deifir interrupted. His eyes were filled with mirth. (He looks like a pretty little rose that’s ready to bloom.) The Absol laughed.

(That’s not nice, Deifir,) the Skarmory said merrily. (Still, you’re right about our precious flower – oops! Did I say ‘flower?’) The bird-like Pokemon let out a giggle.

“You guys are fucking dead when we get back to Earth,” Pokulok growled angrily, while looking at the floor. He tried to quell the feelings he had, but they spilled out of his mouth as a river would spill into the ocean. “I didn’t do that for your amusement. I did it because…because Andrea persuaded me to.”

(She could get you to do anything, couldn’t she?) Deifir said in a contemplative tone, ignoring the fact that Claude had gone quiet. (She had you wrapped around her fingers.)

"Yeah," Claude murmured in a listless tone.

“Objective within reach,” a feminine voice called out, interrupting the conversation. “GPS deactivated.”

“I’m going to get dressed, if you two don’t mind,” he muttered.

Pokulok walked out of the bathroom, ignoring the sickly-gray walls that adorned the ship. He quickly found his room and opened yet another closet. He saw his white one-piece spacesuit and the dark bubble-shaped helmet that accompanied it lying on the floor in a haphazard mess. He was about to pick them up when a sharp agony went through his head. He let out a soft moan.

“Oh, not aga-” he began as a burst of light appeared before his eyes, blinding him momentarily. He let out a scream of pain as another memory flashed in his mind.

Where am I? It’s too dark. I can’t see. I’m hurt, bleeding, dying; oh my God, make it stop, make it stop! Andrea, where are you? I can’t see you. Are you there? Please answer me. Answer me!

The teenager let out a gasp as the flashback ended. He noticed that he had fallen to the floor. He slowly picked himself back up, using his king-sized bed for support.

“I – hate – drugs…” he muttered, as he managed to get to his feet, clinging to the bedpost. “Ugh…I feel like crap.”

A screech from the intercom interrupted his thoughts. “Claude Pokulok, you have an urgent message from the command center,” the robotic female voice echoed.

Pokulok replied with a stream of obscenities that would have made the most vindictive drill sergeant in the world blush. He stooped down to grab his spacesuit, ignoring the sore feeling in his body.

“This message is urgent and must be answered immediately,” the voice said in a pleasant tone.

“Just give me some time, okay?” the MSE asked while putting on the suit.

He had just finished stepping into his uniform when a masculine voice with a slight Lilycove accent came over the intercom.

“Pokulok!” the man shouted in an irritable tone. “Get your sorry ass over to the control room now! I won’t ask again.”

“Quit your whining, Chippy,” Pokulok murmured to himself as he straightened out his spacesuit. “I’ll be there.” He felt the metal collar around his neck emanate a familiar uncomfortable feeling, but he ignored it as he grabbed the helmet. He casually strode out of his room, making sure to take his time.

Why shouldn’t I have fun at the expense of some snooty military officer? God knows I could use a laugh…God knows what I've done to try to pull my life back together.

The adolescent was so absorbed in his thoughts that when the Lilycove native came over the intercom again, he was already seated in the pilot’s chair in the control room. He grabbed the transceiver, a circular walkie-talkie that had the power to transmit sound across any distance, and held it to his ear.

“Goddammit, Pokulok, answer me! Did I fucking stutter when I told you to get your ass over to the control room?!”

“It’s nice to hear your lovely voice, Chad,” Pokulok said sweetly.

“Address me by rank,” the military officer snapped. “I am a lieutenant, and I deserve the satisfaction of being called one.”

“Yes, Lieutenant Dredge,” the MSE said in a bored tone.

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line. “Can you tell me why you took your time to answer my message?” Dredge asked wearily.

“I was putting on my uniform,” Pokulok answered. “I am allowed to do that, right?”

“Fine. I needed to let you know something important about the mission.”

“Then tell me.”

There was a pause. “This isn’t like a regular disappearance, Claude,” the lieutenant said quietly. “Most of the time, someone on a colony ship can let the command center know about the situation via transceiver.”

“Alright,” Pokulok said dismissively. “What’s so different about this one?”

“This time, a distress signal was sent out, but nobody told us what was actually going on,” Dredge murmured.

“That shouldn’t be surprising,” the teenager muttered in an uninterested voice. “If the remnants of the UA got on board a ship, they wouldn’t leave survivors.”

“I understand that,” the officer said with a nervous edge in his tone. “Still, even if the UA got aboard a colony ship and slaughtered everyone, there would have been at least one person who would have gotten on the transceiver and mentioned that a terrorist group was attacking. In this case, everyone disappeared without a trace. There was no description, no warning; hell, there wasn’t anyone who even talked to us during that time. Everyone simply vanished overnight, and normally, it isn’t plausible for thousands of people and Pokemon to flee a colony ship at the same time and not give us notice.”

“So what are you thinking?” Pokulok asked, his interest increasing with every word the lieutenant said.

“In the best case scenario, there was a major emergency that forced everyone to leave the Revenant without notifying us, and everyone got away unscathed.”

The look on the teenager’s face was skeptical. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

“Absolutely not. There are transceivers aboard the escape ships, and there’s no possible way that all of them are broken.”

“What do you want me to do?” Pokulok asked.

“The military needs to know what happened. You were the one who was volunteered for the job. Everything escalated from there.” Dredge paused before continuing. “We need you to find out as much as you can and get the hell out of there. Whatever happened to the people on the Revenant could just as easily happen to you. Still, you happen to be our most promising young MSE. We wouldn’t give you this mission if we didn’t think you could handle it.”

Pride swelled in the teenager’s heart. “I won’t let you down, sir,” he murmured, hoping that he sounded appreciative.

“Good. Still, there’s one other bit of information that you need to know.”

“What is it?”

“You remember Jerrell Harris, your CO?”

Pokulok felt his insides freeze. Memories stormed into his mind as he recalled the last conversation he ever had with his commanding officer.

“You’re a selfish, ungrateful piece of shit. I risked my career for you, I protected you because I thought you were my friend, and this is what I get in return? You know what? I’m done! I’m tired of sticking out my fucking neck for you! I hope you rot in a labor camp for the rest of your life; it’s exactly what you deserve after what you did.”

“Yeah…I remember him,” the MSE said quietly. “What about him?”

“He was on board the Revenant when the incident happened. Try to locate him and keep him alive. He’s one of the few people with medical experience on board the ship, and that experience could prove to be invaluable. Can I trust you to do that?”

“Yes, sir!” Pokulok said collectedly.

“Fair enough. If there is UA involvement, if you’re about to be captured…well, your collar should activate.”

The teenager nervously felt the metallic ring that had been surgically grafted to his neck when he was fifteen. It was a piece of technology that allowed easy access to his Pokemon, and it happened to be the only living proof that he was an MSE and not some regular space engineer. Still, if he ever got captured, if there was a situation where he had to die in order to protect vital information…

“I hope it never has to come to that,” Pokulok murmured inaudibly, trying to ignore the phobia that was drilling its way into his brain.

“Come again?” Dredge asked. “You need to speak up.”

“It’s nothing,” the MSE said in a firm tone, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

Another awkward pause ensued. “If you need to say anything, spit it out,” the lieutenant said calmly. “I’m perfectly willing to listen to your concerns, you know.”

The adolescent closed his eyes. “Sir, I’m fine,” he lied. “Honestly.”

“Objective in sight,” the robotic voice called.

“I’ll call you back, sir,” Pokulok murmured, switching off the transceiver before Dredge could protest. He squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the lights of the ship. A look of confusion crossed his face when he noticed the outline of the colony ship. There were lights in the exterior of the ship that were supposed to be a beacon to the carrier ships that delivered food to the ten thousand or so people and Pokemon that called the Revenant their home, but almost none of them were working. He only knew that they existed because of the weak flickers they gave off before they faded into the lifeless background.

Still, it’s just an exterior malfunction. The interior lighting works well. If I can just-

(Claude?)

Pokulok turned around and let out a sigh of relief as he noticed that his two faithful Pokemon had snuck into the control room.

(So, how did your meeting go?) Deifir asked curiously.

“It went fine,” the MSE said nonchalantly. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to try to contact them. There has to be someone aboard this ship.”

Pokulok grabbed the transceiver and set it on the same frequency as the Revenant.

“This is MSE Second Class Pokulok,” the teenager said in a clear tone. “Can anyone answer me?”

The only sound that Pokulok heard was the cold crackle of heavy static on the other end…and the figurative hammer thudding against his heart. He looked at his Pokemon nervously, and his nervousness only grew when he saw that Faitios also looked uneasy.

(I don’t like this, Claude,) the Skarmory murmured. (I have a really bad feeling-)

(Oh, shut up, Faitios,) Deifir muttered, rolling his eyes in annoyance. (You always have a bad feeling about everything. You’re the most cowardly Pokemon I’ve ever seen in my lifetime.)

(I’m serious, Deifir,) the metallic bird insisted. (I can feel it in my feathers. This place…it freaks me out. It’s too quiet.)

“Did you expect them to hold a parade in our honor just because we came here?” Pokulok growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Why is this surprising to you? If the UA got here before us, there wouldn’t be anyone greeting us. All we have to do is find out whether or not they’re still here. It’s about as easy of a job as we’re going to get.”

(See, Faitios?) the Absol said confidently. (I’m not scared, Claude’s not scared, and you shouldn’t be scared either. Nothing’s going to hurt-)

The white ship shook violently, knocking all three of them to the ground. The carrier ship was being tugged into the hangar at a steady speed.

“It’s one of those goddamned magnetic beams!” the MSE growled as he got back in the chair and vainly yanked at the throttle. The engines of the white ship tried to break the hold that the Revenant had seized, but the colony ship wasn’t willing to let her target go.

“Damn it!” Pokulok growled. He pushed the throttle forward until the ship was moving in the same direction as the magnetic beam’s pull.

(Are you mad?!) Faitios screeched. (Pull up!)

“I can’t!” the teenager yelled. “If we resist the beam, we'll slam into the hull. Moving with the beam is the only way to save our asses.”

(We’re going to crash in the hangar if you do that, you idiot!) the Skarmory replied furiously. His eyes widened as the closing doors of the hangar loomed over the carrier ship.

(Oh-my-Arceus-brace-yourselves!) Deifir screamed in a single breath, while he clung to the pilot’s chair with his front claws.

Pokulok, who was just starting to notice the danger they were in, pushed the throttle to its limit. The maneuver managed to get them through the doors, but it wasn’t nearly enough to keep the white ship from crashing into the hangar floor. The young man’s head slammed hard against the control panels, sending him back into the darkness.

…

I can’t see anything. Am I blind? Dead? No, I can’t be dead; why would Death chase me if I was already in his grasp? I keep hearing Andrea’s screams. God, I have to help. I can’t just lie here and do nothing. I have to open my eyes. Wake up, Claude! Wake up, damn you!

Pokulok knew that something was wrong the second he opened his eyes. He saw nothing but darkness, and he couldn’t move his legs. He had a cold feeling all around his skin, like something was crawling above and inside it. And it wasn’t just his skin. It was eating at his brain and his eyes…

Wait – that’s not a cold feeling…

He felt the area around his eyes with his fingers, dread working its way into his body. Normally, his eyes would have closed at the intrusion, but he immediately noticed that no matter what he did, they wouldn’t shut. He had a horrible feeling that there was something missing. His quivering fingers brushed against the upper part of his eyes, and he nearly emptied the contents of his stomach when he realized what was missing.

My eyelids! Oh, GOD!

The cold feeling that he had earlier had returned, but this time it seemed very tangible around his left hand. He grabbed at his left hand with his other hand, and he felt something squish against them. His eyesight was beginning to improve in the darkness. He felt around for the thing that he had crushed. When he finally found it and saw what it was, he let out a very high-pitched screech.

“Maggots! Shit!”

Pokulok flung the crushed maggot away from him, revulsion racing through his body.

I think I'm a corpse, but why? Why am I dead? I can’t believe this is happening…

“Why is it so hard to believe? You’re already dead inside. Why can’t you be dead on the outside as well?”

The teenager flinched at the harsh voice that echoed from all around him.

“Andrea?” he whimpered. “Is that you? Why am I dead?”

The girl didn’t answer his questions immediately. Instead, Pokulok saw something walk toward him. When he saw exactly what it was, he screamed again.

The person who appeared was Andrea, but this incarnation completely differed from her previous one. Her light-brown hair was stringy and – along with most of her body and clothes – caked with dirt. Her sunken green eyes were glazed over with permanent hatred. Most of her body had decayed into bone, and the skin and muscles that remained were a mottled greenish-blue. Her clothes, a feminine military outfit consisting of a blouse and a knee-length skirt, were mud-stained and tattered. She held a .45 caliber pistol in her skeletal right hand, and she pointed it directly at Pokulok.

“They buried me,” Andrea hissed. “My spirit had to dig its way out of my grave.”

The MSE’s eyes were beginning to tear up. “Andrea, I-”

“No excuses!” she screamed hysterically. “I know what you’ve done, you fucking worm! Do you really expect me to accept your apology?”

“Please let me expla-”

“No,” she snarled. “I know what you did to that man. He had a family. He had a beautiful little girl. He had a life, which is something that you never did.”

“But he-”

“Don’t lie! You became an addict after I died. You did nothing but waste away; if Jerrell didn’t intervene, you’d be dead by now. If you didn’t have Faitios and Deifir with you, you’d have nothing. Absolutely nothing!”

“Then let me help you,” Pokulok said quietly. “You want your spirit to find peace? I’ll help you with that. I’ll do anything to help you find the peace you deserve. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

Andrea let out a cruel laugh and waved the gun dismissively. “You? Help me?” she sneered contemptuously. “How pathetic can you get? You can’t even help yourself! I don’t know how I could have ever been friends with you. I guess it’s because I was a fool.” She looked down at her feet. “I guess I was stupid. You ended up killing me with your idiotic actions! It sickens me that I’m dead and you’re still alive.”

At those words, the teenager’s eyes flooded with tears. “I wish it would have been me,” he said, gritting his teeth. He forced himself to look at Andrea’s face. “Every single day I wake up, I wish that I would have died instead. And you’re right; I did kill you. I’m sorry!”

The last two words had been an inhuman howl. A few moments passed before Andrea even looked at him. When his dead friend stared into his eyes, he noticed that her ruined face was devoid of anything other than pure loathing. She viciously pulled back the hammer of the pistol, pointed the gun at his face, and pulled the trigger. The last thing that he heard was a loud report before a swift wave of darkness swallowed him whole.

[Dramatic Melody]

That was interesting. I like how dark the nightmares are, and how they make up a whole arc of their own. I honestly find the nightmares more interesting than the real story, though, but I feel that's because nothing much has happened in the real story so far.

I found it weird how the Skarmory was the one to sense the danger when Absol are known specifically to sense disasters. Not too big of an issue, but...yeah.

One small thing, what's an MSE? I know it's not important, but it felt weird seeing the acronym and not knowing what it stood for. I'm pretty sure it's somewhere in the story and I missed it, though. XD

I wonder what's causing the dreams? There's a mention of drugs, but I feel it's much more than that...can't wait to find out. The story looks good so far, your characterization's okay [Andrea's my favorite. Heh.], and it's still too early to figure out what the plot is, but from the looks of it it's gonna be interesting. So keep at it! =)

[EonMaster One]

Hi. EM1 here, dropping a line in response to your request. Although, seriously, I’m really not sure how much of my help you need. I’m actually really flattered that you asked me to review this, but I’ll try my best with what little skill I have.

rev•e•nant
–noun
1. a person who returns.
2. a person who returns as a spirit after death; ghost.


Well, in the department of “titles that are absolutely spot on,” I’m not sure you could do better, frankly. Sure, there are titles that might be flashier and stick out more, but from what I’ve seen of the two chapters you’ve posted to this point, this one-word title sums up what you’re setting out to do perfectly. Now on to the chapters themselves.

Chapter One:

I hope this doesn’t seem too pretentious, but I tend to associate buzzwords with writing styles. I usually tend to give them adjective titles. Words like “gritty”, “workmanlike”, “sharp”. The first word that came to mind as I got into your work was the word “visceral.” Don’t worry – in my book, “visceral” is almost always a good thing, and for a work such as this one (which, by the way, major creativity points for your choice of setting and genre) it’s right on target.

Characters with pasts and inner demons are my favorite type of characters to work with. The majority of stories and certainly the vast majority of good stories revolve around some sort of conflict. This can scale from something as epic as a worldwide war between the forces of good and evil to something as personal as a vendetta between one hero and one villain. However, as far as I’m concerned, the most enthralling (and, on some levels, the most accessible) stories involve conflicts in a character’s own head. Personally, I think they appeal to us because they represent the part of our humanity that isn’t quite okay. Some people manage to look confident and competent to the world around them, but inside, those same people could be anywhere from a tiny bit insecure to a mental and emotional time bomb.

Claude clearly fits the bill toward the latter end of the spectrum. He’s managed to build a particular skill (in this case, his profession) to excellence – at least among his peers. But, personally, he still struggles with the voices in his head – a lot of them literal. Since he is the main protagonist and, by the looks of things, will be carrying the majority of this story on the strength of his character, I’d say this fic has a very bright future (or maybe a ‘very dark’ future would be more appropriate – whatever sounds more positive to you works.) That said, there were a few things that bugged me.

Still, that didn’t deter humanity from their desire to conquer the final frontier. One such example was a white ship that cruised at a speed that was faster than light. It was an old carrier ship that had been spared from the scrapheap more times than it should have, but it was still reliable and surprisingly durable, especially considering the amount of cargo it had carried over the course of sixteen long years. It had the same streamlined shape that a Sharpedo possessed – if the Sharpedo happened to be a gigantic machine that was at least thirty times bigger than the shark-like Pokemon itself.

This entire paragraph seemed…awkward. Not so much grammatically, but in terms of phrasing. It sort of bottlenecks the scope of your introduction, which, if I might say, is very reminiscent of Star Trek, and considering the feel you were looking for, Star Trek is a good reference point. And it’s a good thing, if you’re starting by describing the larger overall setting, to narrow down from the setting to the main character or group of characters or whoever it is your story follows first. Think of it like zooming in with a camera.

On this particular passage, I felt that the ‘camera’ of your writing zoomed in too fast and too unevenly. In the previous paragraph, you listed several reasons why space exploration was difficult. Then you started this particular paragraph with ‘that.’ If you’re asking me, if anything, the pronoun should have been plural (i.e. ‘those’). But then again, that sounds awkward. If there is an issue here, it’s the ‘voice’ of your writing. It went from epic to casual and conversational a bit too quickly and I found it jarring when I read. I probably would have gone with a pair of opening sentences like:

“Despite these dangers, Man continued undaunted in his endeavors to conquer this ‘Final Frontier.’ One example of his ongoing quest came in the form of an old, white carrier ship, rocketing through space faster than light speed…”

The sentence describing the ship could then be cut down or split into two. It came off a bit longwinded. It’s an easy trap to fall into when describing things. I’ve done it myself more times than I care to count. It’s not like it can’t work. But sentence breaks – otherwise known as periods – give readers time to digest pieces of information. To use an analogy, sentences that are well-written, but too long are like forcing someone to swallow a bite of food that’s way too big. Doesn’t matter how good the food is – once you get past a certain point, you’d better start cutting it up into pieces or risk choking to death.

The dream sequence was very well executed. You did a good job of capturing the emotional and physical effects of such an ordeal without melodrama, and yet without pulling any punches, either. Another key was the fact that you underscored that these dreams have a very close relation to a very real trauma that happened in Claude’s past (as opposed to a bad dream that just took a turn for the especially bizarre and grotesque). That makes his character and the effects he feels from the nightmares seem very believable. I’ve never personally had a nightmare bad enough to make me throw up, but I have had ones that scared the hell out of me so horribly that they upset my stomach for a while. The way this was executed makes it seem like it wouldn’t be at all far-fetched.

I obsess over introductions because first impressions are lasting ones. Even though I’m of the mind that any reader looking to enjoy reading a work should give it some time before giving up on it as something dull or uninteresting, I’m also aware that, unfortunately, not all readers think like that. A generation of people raised on computers, the internet, and instant everything also wants instant (or near-instant) payoff on their time investments as well. I’m not saying that people are right for giving up on a fic during its introduction, but it does happen. So, in order to combat that, you really have to put your best foot forward from the first word and not wait until you’re a handful of pages in. You have a very good introduction, one of the better ones I’ve seen. But perhaps, to make it inviting to the most discriminating minds, a few minor adjustments are in order.

Chapter Two:

I know it shouldn’t be too much to ask for a reader to read chapter one before they read chapter two. But be careful with sentences like your opening sentence in this chapter. It had all the feel of a scene change within a chapter as opposed to a new chapter on its own. In other words, “Chapter One, part two” instead of “Chapter Two.” It’s essentially transitioning from something that’s not there – at least, not there in the chapter. If anything I’d have carried over the “Andrea…I’m sorry…” part and repeated it as the first line of the second chapter. It would have served as a trigger to answer the inevitable question of ‘what was Claude brooding about again?’ without forcing readers to go back and reread the previous chapter. If the story is not fresh in your readers’ minds (e.g. you haven’t posted for a while and/or they’ve been reading another story), that transitional phrase about ‘after Claude had finished brooding’ will appear to occur in a vacuum. You can get away with it because there are only two chapters, but don’t turn it into a habit. Speaking for myself, I can say that I’d get reasonably annoyed at a story where I constantly had to backtrack to the previous chapter to figure out the context for the chapter that I’m currently trying to read.

My next word of caution concerns Deifir and Faitios, the two Pokémon. I’m aware that they’re there to sort of counterbalance Claude Pokulok’s, er…deficiencies in sanity, and provide a tiny bit of levity. Just be careful that their influence doesn’t swing Claude from writhing angst to humor too abruptly. Like this example:

After he was finished brooding, Claude Pokulok got to his feet and went over to an adjacent storage closet to get a mop. … (Section omitted)… After he was finished, he laid the two items against the wall.

As he turned to walk out of the bathroom, his two Pokemon greeted him with cheerful faces, and in spite of his despondent thoughts, their positive mindsets managed to stir a ghost of a smile from the adolescent.

“What’s with the funny faces?” he asked in his unnaturally hoarse voice.

(Nothing,) Faitios said. His yellow eyes held a mischievous look in their depths. (You just reminded us of the bet you lost against Andrea when you were thirteen.)

Pokulok started to blush furiously. “Oh, stop it,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t have lost the bet if you guys had won the battle for me.”

(At least you followed through when you lost,) Faitios snickered. (Besides, you actually looked good in a dr-)

(Stop embarrassing him,) Deifir interrupted. His red eyes were filled with mirth. (He looks like a pretty little rose that’s ready to bloom.) The Absol started to laugh uncontrollably.

(That’s not nice, Deifir,) the Skarmory said merrily. (Still, you’re right about our precious flower – oops! Did I say ‘flower?’) The bird-like Pokemon let out a giggle.

“You guys are ****ing dead when we get back to Earth,” Pokulok growled, while looking at the floor in complete humiliation. “I didn’t do that for your amusement. I did it because Andrea persuaded me to.”

(She could get you to do anything, couldn’t she?) Deifir said in a contemplative tone. (She had you wrapped around her fingers.)

“Yeah,” the young MSE murmured quietly.

Given what you established about Claude’s relationship with Andrea in Chapter One, this reaction doesn’t seem believable. First off, Claude doesn’t seem like someone who would be given to humor at all – at least not with any level of sincerity, and certainly not when the jokes are about someone about whom he just had a horrific nightmare. That’s not to say that he had no fond memories of Andrea at all – obviously, he did, to have cared this much for her. But, realistically, I find myself thinking that one of two things should be happening here. I would imagine that the mention of Andrea’s name, at least at this particular point, would evoke a solemn, silent kind of reaction instead of a smile. Either that or someone would mention to either of the Pokémon about the insensitivity of being so casual talking with a mourner. In real-life cases I’ve seen, sometimes the mere mention of the name of a lost loved one can cause a mourner to clam up and become sullen, if not burst into tears on the spot. This is especially true if, as the case almost certainly is here, the loved one was lost under especially tragic circumstances. Now, there is a place in grieving where one who grieves can think back on a loved one and immediately remember those fond memories as opposed to the pain of the loss itself. But it’s not believable to go to that place when the fact that the pain is still so fresh to Claude is one of the of the central plot elements in the story.

In terms of the horror, which is the core of your story so far, you pull it off even better than needed to make a story like this work. Just be careful with your one main character and what he does. He is (at least, for now) the driving force behind this story and, as he goes, the story goes. If he’s not believable, the story itself isn’t believable – and so on.

Again, as I mention these things, don’t think of it as me asking you to make an average or below-average story good. Think of them as suggestions that could potentially make a very good story great. Your writing is very nuanced and that will take you very far. It doesn’t hurt to have people around to take advice from that write like Breezy. At the same time, as much as you mentioned her as somewhat of a mentor, you write with a style that’s all your own, and that’s very refreshing to see.

I’ll definitely be keeping my eye on ‘Revenant’ in the coming weeks and months, and I hope that my flimsy nitpicking has helped you out in some way.

– EM1

[Breezy]

After he was finished brooding, Claude Pokulok got to his feet and went over to an adjacent storage closet to get a mop. The closet was packed with multiple items, which made searching for the damned thing a chore. He finally managed to find it behind a trash can and a bucket. He grabbed both the mop and bucket and started to clean up the mess he made in the bathroom. After he was finished, he laid the two items against the wall.

The problem I have with this paragraph, especially as an opener, is that it goes on far too long for something that is, literally, a simple chore. You were also rather repetitive with the sentence structure here: your first and last sentence start with "after" while the sentences in the middle were basic subject-verb sentences that made the flow choppy.

(Nothing,) Faitios said. His yellow eyes held a mischievous look in their depths. (You just reminded us of the bet you lost against Andrea when you were thirteen.)

(Stop embarrassing him,) Deifir interrupted. His red eyes were filled with mirth. (He looks like a pretty little rose that’s ready to bloom.) The Absol started to laugh uncontrollably.

The eye bits were a little obvious with what you were trying to do (introduce eye color); likewise, the structure is more telling than showing.

Your description is a little awkward to read at time. Most of them are a long the lines of "[character] started to [verb]." While it's okay to use of course, be aware of what your description is doing and how it works with the story. Some choices tend to read as out-of-the-moment in comparison to it being active and present.

“Oh, not aga-” he began as a burst of lights appeared before his eyes, blinding him momentarily.

Light

“He was on board the Revenant when the incident happened. If you can, find him. He’s one of the few people with medical experience on board the ship, and that experience could prove to be invaluable. Can I trust you to do that?”

The sentence in bold is incomplete.

His yellow eyes widened as the closing doors of the hangar loomed over the carrier ship.

You're kind of pushing the eye color descriptor too strongly. There were other instances that you did this that I didn't point out, and it's starting to go from "slightly obvious descriptor" to almost irritating to read.

The last two words had been an agonized scream.

There was also a ton of screaming, too.

I'm a little hesitant with this chapter when it comes to how I feel about it. It started off awkwardly. It was nice to see Pokulok described in a lighter sense, but it sounded forced. The dialogue with him and his pokemon just sounded uncomfortable, which makes no sense given that the conversation was about Pokulok doing something embarrassing/humorous. It might also have to do with the way your strung your sentences together. A lot of your sentences in the first section were choppy. Some sentences could have been easily combined with the sentence before/after, and some sentences could have had better construction. The dialogue between Pokulok and his lieutenant was much more easier to read. The flow was nicer and smoother; perhaps you find more ease writing dialogue between two characters than juggling multiple characters speakers, especially if the dialogue is a little more ... serious?

What also conflicts me is your word choice. Like I pointed out earlier, you tend to use "screaming" quite a bit, and all your "darker" imagery tends to circle around some key words, like "hatred bubbling," or "enveloped darkness" which starts to read more like a caricature of horror or darker imagery. I think Pokulok definitely has potential to be an amazing character; he has inner demons, some which are barely scratching the surface, a career that pretty much overwhelms his entire life, and much more, but you tend to segregate them and magnify them too closely with repetitive imagery and action. Part of this is because certain segments of this chapter really don't make sense in terms of placement.

Why shouldn’t I have fun at the expense of some snooty military officer? God knows I could use a laugh…

The young MSE started to hum a random tune, but he frowned as he heard the cracked cacophony that was his voice. The teenager gritted his teeth angrily. He knew that he had a better voice than this, but his stupid decisions had taken it away. Hatred bubbled in his heart when he recalled the man in his dream. He was furious at the man, at his useless commanding officer, at the ignorant students that he had trained with. Still, he reserved a special loathing for himself.

Why do I even bother trying? I know I’ll never get my life back. I got my revenge, sure, but what did I do before that? How badly did I screw up before I finally got things right? And it still cost me everything…

Pokulok shuffled along the hallway of the small cargo ship, hardly looking at the glass windows that provided a spectacular view of space. All he saw was the darkness that he so desperately wanted to get away from. He was sick of the inky murk, of the eternal night, of the places where light had never touched, where faith and gods faded as quickly as a dying sun. He wished that he had the chance to get rid of the dark places and the dark people that he despised.

(Sections in bold is what I meant by repetitive dark imagery and a caricature of a "darker" character.) This was just entirely randomly placed when you look at what its surrounded by (Dredge yelling at him to hurry up). I don't really get the trail of thought, honestly, or why you chose now to spend time on it instead of somewhere else. Pokulok's lighter moments are actually a lot more realistic and believable than his darker ones. You're too obviously heavy with the imagery, like you want the reader to know that, yes he's messed up; yes, he has bad nightmares about Andrea still; yes, his troubles arose from being a MSE, and it all created dark dark dark dark dark dark dark dark stuff, when honestly, you really don't need to drill it that heavily in heavy sections.

What I particularly liked with this chapter is the dialogue between Pokulok and Dredge, part because it showed a dryer side to him that was amusing to read, and the nightmare scene, which was nicely described (maggots!). The dialogue was also very snappy and quick, which matched well to the overall mood in that scene. You developed the relationship, if you can call it that, between Pokulok and the dead Andrea well. You can sense Pokulok's overall guilt in his role with her death.

So overall, the chapter was okay in terms of ideas and execution, but the structure and word choice need some work.

[SilentMemento]

I figure I should reply to the reviews and correct my mistakes.

That was interesting. I like how dark the nightmares are, and how they make up a whole arc of their own. I honestly find the nightmares more interesting than the real story, though, but I feel that's because nothing much has happened in the real story so far.

You're right. Nothing has really happened in the real story at the moment. I hope to change that with the next few chapters.

I found it weird how the Skarmory was the one to sense the danger when Absol are known specifically to sense disasters. Not too big of an issue, but...yeah.

I attribute that more to the fact that the Skarmory is a coward while the Absol is extremely overconfident. But there is a reason why Deifir didn't sense danger.

One small thing, what's an MSE? I know it's not important, but it felt weird seeing the acronym and not knowing what it stood for. I'm pretty sure it's somewhere in the story and I missed it, though. XD

Shoot. I really should have explained it more. It means "military space engineer".

I wonder what's causing the dreams? There's a mention of drugs, but I feel it's much more than that...can't wait to find out. The story looks good so far, your characterization's okay [Andrea's my favorite. Heh.], and it's still too early to figure out what the plot is, but from the looks of it it's gonna be interesting. So keep at it! =)

Hmm...so Andrea's your favorite? I can understand that; she's a character that I'd root for as well.

Well, in the department of “titles that are absolutely spot on,” I’m not sure you could do better, frankly. Sure, there are titles that might be flashier and stick out more, but from what I’ve seen of the two chapters you’ve posted to this point, this one-word title sums up what you’re setting out to do perfectly.

True, the word "revenant" is described as a ghost, but it's really a lot more than that. There's a lot of interesting folklore about revenants, and I actually didn't know how accurate this title was going to be when I wrote it.

I hope this doesn’t seem too pretentious, but I tend to associate buzzwords with writing styles. I usually tend to give them adjective titles. Words like “gritty”, “workmanlike”, “sharp”. The first word that came to mind as I got into your work was the word “visceral.”

Visceral? Never heard that word before. I actually had to look it up. I guess you learn something every day.

However, as far as I’m concerned, the most enthralling (and, on some levels, the most accessible) stories involve conflicts in a character’s own head. Personally, I think they appeal to us because they represent the part of our humanity that isn’t quite okay. Some people manage to look confident and competent to the world around them, but inside, those same people could be anywhere from a tiny bit insecure to a mental and emotional time bomb.

Yeah, it's always interesting to write from a character's head. Right and wrong can be reversed, and the worst ones wouldn't even know the difference.

Since he is the main protagonist and, by the looks of things, will be carrying the majority of this story on the strength of his character, I’d say this fic has a very bright future (or maybe a ‘very dark’ future would be more appropriate – whatever sounds more positive to you works.)

Either one works for me. I'm not picky.

On this particular passage, I felt that the ‘camera’ of your writing zoomed in too fast and too unevenly. In the previous paragraph, you listed several reasons why space exploration was difficult. Then you started this particular paragraph with ‘that.’ If you’re asking me, if anything, the pronoun should have been plural (i.e. ‘those’). But then again, that sounds awkward. If there is an issue here, it’s the ‘voice’ of your writing. It went from epic to casual and conversational a bit too quickly and I found it jarring when I read.

I figured that there was something wrong with my opening paragraphs. Thank you for pointing it out.

The sentence describing the ship could then be cut down or split into two. It came off a bit longwinded. It’s an easy trap to fall into when describing things.

Oh shoot, I'm rambling in my stories again. I'll go fix that right away.

Another key was the fact that you underscored that these dreams have a very close relation to a very real trauma that happened in Claude’s past (as opposed to a bad dream that just took a turn for the especially bizarre and grotesque). That makes his character and the effects he feels from the nightmares seem very believable. I’ve never personally had a nightmare bad enough to make me throw up, but I have had ones that scared the hell out of me so horribly that they upset my stomach for a while. The way this was executed makes it seem like it wouldn’t be at all far-fetched.

Lucky you. I wrote that scene specifically based on the aftermath of one of my nightmares.

You have a very good introduction, one of the better ones I’ve seen. But perhaps, to make it inviting to the most discriminating minds, a few minor adjustments are in order.

Fair enough. I'll make those adjustments right away.

I know it shouldn’t be too much to ask for a reader to read chapter one before they read chapter two. But be careful with sentences like your opening sentence in this chapter. It had all the feel of a scene change within a chapter as opposed to a new chapter on its own. In other words, “Chapter One, part two” instead of “Chapter Two.” It’s essentially transitioning from something that’s not there – at least, not there in the chapter. If anything I’d have carried over the “Andrea…I’m sorry…” part and repeated it as the first line of the second chapter. It would have served as a trigger to answer the inevitable question of ‘what was Claude brooding about again?’ without forcing readers to go back and reread the previous chapter.

Oh, man. I sincerely apologize about that. It's one of those oversights that I never really thought about. I better go edit it.

My next word of caution concerns Deifir and Faitios, the two Pokémon. I’m aware that they’re there to sort of counterbalance Claude Pokulok’s, er…deficiencies in sanity, and provide a tiny bit of levity. Just be careful that their influence doesn’t swing Claude from writhing angst to humor too abruptly.

Okay. I'm guessing I should have led up to it rather than immediately switched. And back to the editing board I go.

Given what you established about Claude’s relationship with Andrea in Chapter One, this reaction doesn’t seem believable. First off, Claude doesn’t seem like someone who would be given to humor at all – at least not with any level of sincerity, and certainly not when the jokes are about someone about whom he just had a horrific nightmare. That’s not to say that he had no fond memories of Andrea at all – obviously, he did, to have cared this much for her. But, realistically, I find myself thinking that one of two things should be happening here. I would imagine that the mention of Andrea’s name, at least at this particular point, would evoke a solemn, silent kind of reaction instead of a smile. Either that or someone would mention to either of the Pokémon about the insensitivity of being so casual talking with a mourner. In real-life cases I’ve seen, sometimes the mere mention of the name of a lost loved one can cause a mourner to clam up and become sullen, if not burst into tears on the spot. This is especially true if, as the case almost certainly is here, the loved one was lost under especially tragic circumstances. Now, there is a place in grieving where one who grieves can think back on a loved one and immediately remember those fond memories as opposed to the pain of the loss itself. But it’s not believable to go to that place when the fact that the pain is still so fresh to Claude is one of the of the central plot elements in the story.

When I wrote it, I never really thought that he was smiling because of Andrea. It was pretty much the happiness of his Pokemon that drew the smile. I can see how it can be seen as something different, though. More things to edit.

The problem I have with this paragraph, especially as an opener, is that it goes on far too long for something that is, literally, a simple chore. You were also rather repetitive with the sentence structure here: your first and last sentence start with "after" while the sentences in the middle were basic subject-verb sentences that made the flow choppy.

Shoot. And I was worried about making it too short... I'll edit that as well.

The eye bits were a little obvious with what you were trying to do (introduce eye color); likewise, the structure is more telling than showing.

Ugh. I keep doing things like that in all of my stories. Once should be enough; I've read that physical description shouldn't really be described unless it means something. And yet I keep doing this...more editing.

Your description is a little awkward to read at time. Most of them are a long the lines of "[character] started to [verb]." While it's okay to use of course, be aware of what your description is doing and how it works with the story. Some choices tend to read as out-of-the-moment in comparison to it being active and present.

Okay. Something else to improve on. I can do that.

Light

The sentence in bold is incomplete.

Dammit, I have got to stop making silly grammatical errors like those... I'll fix them right away.

You're kind of pushing the eye color descriptor too strongly. There were other instances that you did this that I didn't point out, and it's starting to go from "slightly obvious descriptor" to almost irritating to read.

I sincerely apologize for that. It's something that I've got to stop doing - and I can guarantee that it won't happen again.

There was also a ton of screaming, too.

I'm going to have to find some synonyms...

I'm a little hesitant with this chapter when it comes to how I feel about it. It started off awkwardly. It was nice to see Pokulok described in a lighter sense, but it sounded forced. The dialogue with him and his pokemon just sounded uncomfortable, which makes no sense given that the conversation was about Pokulok doing something embarrassing/humorous. It might also have to do with the way your strung your sentences together. A lot of your sentences in the first section were choppy. Some sentences could have been easily combined with the sentence before/after, and some sentences could have had better construction. The dialogue between Pokulok and his lieutenant was much more easier to read. The flow was nicer and smoother; perhaps you find more ease writing dialogue between two characters than juggling multiple characters speakers, especially if the dialogue is a little more ... serious?

Yeah, that was rather bad on my part. That'll definitely be one of the first things I fix. And now that I look back on a lot of my fics, a lot of the dialogue is between two characters. I guess I am more comfortable in that department.

(Sections in bold is what I meant by repetitive dark imagery and a caricature of a "darker" character.) This was just entirely randomly placed when you look at what its surrounded by (Dredge yelling at him to hurry up). I don't really get the trail of thought, honestly, or why you chose now to spend time on it instead of somewhere else. Pokulok's lighter moments are actually a lot more realistic and believable than his darker ones. You're too obviously heavy with the imagery, like you want the reader to know that, yes he's messed up; yes, he has bad nightmares about Andrea still; yes, his troubles arose from being a MSE, and it all created dark dark dark dark dark dark dark dark stuff, when honestly, you really don't need to drill it that heavily in heavy sections.

Well, I really ought to re-evaluate my writing if the lighter moments are more believable than the darker ones. Yes, both of them should be as believable as possible, but given that this fic focuses more on the darkness than the light moments...that really concerns me. Thank you for pointing them out; it's better for me to fix them now than to be halfway through the fic and realize that I screwed something up.

What I particularly liked with this chapter is the dialogue between Pokulok and Dredge, part because it showed a dryer side to him that was amusing to read, and the nightmare scene, which was nicely described (maggots!). The dialogue was also very snappy and quick, which matched well to the overall mood in that scene. You developed the relationship, if you can call it that, between Pokulok and the dead Andrea well. You can sense Pokulok's overall guilt in his role with her death.

It's amazing how many people don't think of things that they despise when it comes to a horror fic. Maggots are some of the most disgusting creatures in existence, and I've never seen them used in any horror fic. Of course, I'm probably wrong, and they've been used multiple times in many horror fics.

Again, thank you all for reviewing; I've learned a lot from everyone.

[GastlyMan]

He stared into the mirror, looking at his pale, haggard appearance. His cropped light-brown hair was sticking out everywhere, and his icy-blue eyes were bloodshot, which gave him the look of a long-time insomniac. He was five inches over six feet, but his rail-thin frame made him seem like a starving prisoner-of-war. He put his other hand on the countertop, hanging his head in exhaustion.

I really liked your description here. It does a pretty good job of illustrating how worn down Claude is from the demons.

Pokulok felt his insides freeze. Memories stormed into his mind as he recalled the last conversation he ever had with his commanding officer.

“You’re a selfish, ungrateful piece of ****. I risked my career for you, I protected you because I thought you were my friend, and this is what I get in return? You know what? I’m done! I’m tired of sticking out my ****ing neck for you! I hope you rot in a labor camp for the rest of your life; it’s exactly what you deserve after what you did.”

“Yeah…I remember him,” the MSE said quietly. “What about him?”

This was good, but it's just a little unclear as to who is speaking in the italicized portion - is it Pokulok or Harris?

Overall, I think you did a pretty good job. The recurrent nightmares (is that the correct term?) are exciting, and of course now I'm intrigued as to how exactly Andrea was killed.

Excited to see what you have in store next. Hopefully, my review will be a bit longer in future chapters; sorry for the brevity of this one.

[SilentMemento]

I'm really, really sorry that you guys had to wait for both the chapter and the edits. I should have been writing this chapter over the summer, and I didn't. I have no excuse for that. Hopefully, this'll make up for the wait.

I should also reply to the last review:

I really liked your description here. It does a pretty good job of illustrating how worn down Claude is from the demons.

Thank you. That's what I intended.

This was good, but it's just a little unclear as to who is speaking in the italicized portion - is it Pokulok or Harris?

It's Harris who's speaking. I'm sorry that it was unclear.

Overall, I think you did a pretty good job. The recurrent nightmares (is that the correct term?) are exciting, and of course now I'm intrigued as to how exactly Andrea was killed.

Yeah, I've noticed that the nightmares are the best part. Hopefully, I can improve on that and make all of the parts worth reading.

Excited to see what you have in store next. Hopefully, my review will be a bit longer in future chapters; sorry for the brevity of this one.

I appreciate that. Thank you for the review.

And now, on to the chapter:

Chapter Three

...

When Claude Pokulok opened his eyes again, he realized that he still wasn’t awake. For one thing, he felt absolutely no stress or anger. For another, he was standing on a sunlit beach in his native home of Mossdeep, surrounded by sand, palm trees, and ocean waves. A salty tang filled the air, and he thought that it carried the soft melody of a tribal song as well. He also noticed that he was wearing a casual outfit consisting of little more than a black T-shirt, green camouflage shorts, and sandals.

Andrea stood a few feet away from him, gazing out to sea. Like him, she wore a casual outfit: a white tank-top and a pair of blue jeans.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said quietly, as he walked up to her.

She turned around slowly, a small grin on her face.

“Don’t you know when not to sneak up on people?” she asked in a tone filled with mock-exasperation.

“Ah, but who else would dare annoy you if I didn’t?” Pokulok asked teasingly. “Admit it: your life would be utterly boring if I wasn’t your friend.”

“Well, I’d still have Jerrell and my Pokemon,” she replied.

“See?” he stated triumphantly. “You’d be bored to tears.”

“I would not.”

“Yes, you would.”

“You wanna bet?”

“Yeah, I do!”

Andrea’s eyes gleamed. “Okay,” she said confidently. “What are you willing to bet?”

Pokulok grinned in reply. “Anything,” he said in an equally-confident tone.

“How about we settle this the old-fashioned way?” she asked. She unclipped two pokeballs from her belt. “Double battle?”

Pokulok nodded, pulled out his own pokeballs, and clicked the button on each of them. The two capsules opened up to reveal two beams of white light, which quickly materialized into his two Pokemon.

(Oh, it feels good to be back out,) Faitios said in a content tone, stretching out his wings. (Still, what’s with the beach?)

(This is Mossdeep, genius,) Deifir muttered while rolling his eyes. (Island communities always have beaches. Use your brain before you open your beak.)

(Mossdeep’s a city, not an island community,) the Skarmory said. (Oh, and not every island has a beach. What about the volcanic ground in Sootopolis? Maybe you should think before you insult me.)

(Mossdeep is the name of the city and the island, you ignoramus,) growled the Absol. (And islands always have beaches, even if they’re little more than volcanic rock! Good Arceus, if your brain was made of birdseed, you would have starved to death before you were born.)

The look on Andrea’s face was filled with amusement. “Are your Pokemon usually this argumentative?” she asked curiously.

“Unfortunately,” Pokulok mumbled.

The girl sighed. “If you think that’s bad, wait until you see mine.” She clicked the buttons and released her Pokemon in a quick burst of light.

One of her Pokemon looked like a small purple witch, complete with hat and cloak. The ghost-type had no natural limbs. Instead, her cloak fluttered around her in tatters. Her violet eyes danced at the possibility of a battle.

The other Pokemon looked a lot like a chandelier with a head that resembled a beach ball in both size and shape. Two blank pale-yellow eyes blinked at Pokulok in a disinterested manner, while the purple flames that flickered over his head and limbs (if a chandelier has limbs?) swayed dangerously close to Faitios.

“Lighty!” Andrea snapped. “You are not allowed to suck out the souls of my friend’s Pokemon! If you do that, I will return you to your pokeball, and you won’t get any snacks for the rest of your life.”

(Aw, Lighty doesn’t mean it, Andrea,) the witch-like Pokemon said in a soft voice. (He is a Chandelure. It’s in his nature. Besides, I bet that he wouldn’t hurt-)

(Yes, I would, Magick Mismagius,) the Chandelure said in an annoyed tone.

(Mismagius isn’t my last name, Lighty,) Magick pouted. (And I’m sure that you’re too nice to destroy a fellow Pokemon’s soul.)

Deifir let out an impatient snort. (Are we going to actually battle, or are you two going to keep trying to flatter each other?) he said loudly.

Pokulok grinned. “Enough talk,” he said coolly. “You ready to get creamed?”

“Not yet,” Andrea replied with a smile. “I want to know what we’re betting first; that way, we can’t complain later on. So, what do you want me to do if you win?”

The teenager’s grin widened. “Remember the military ball?” he asked. “I figure that now’s as good of a time to ask you out as any. If I win, you have to go with me. Deal?”

“Deal,” the girl said without a hint of hesitation. A mischievous look flashed in her eyes. “And if I win, you have to follow my orders for an entire week.”

Pokulok’s smile vanished as quickly as a setting sun. “Hang on; what sort of orders would I have to follow?” he asked warily.

“That will be a surprise,” she said, winking at him. “Don’t worry; there’s no hard work involved.”

“That doesn’t sound very encouraging when you say it,” the adolescent said suspiciously. “I know you, Andrea; you have a sense of humor that would make Monty Python blush.”

“Did I mention that I’ll still go to the ball with you if I win?” she coaxed.

“Deal,” Pokulok replied immediately.

Faitios let out a soft series of chirps that sounded a lot like laughter. (Well, why am I not surprised?) he snickered.

“You be quiet,” the teenager said in a no-nonsense tone. “Now are we ready, Andrea?”

Andrea opened her mouth, but he couldn’t hear her voice. Instead, a loud, ethereal voice echoed from the fading background.

“Claude? Claude, are you okay? Please wake up…”

…

Pokulok’s eyes snapped open to see the lights of a pilot’s room. Faitios and Deifir stood over him, their expressions filled with anxiety.

“What the hell…what happened?” he mumbled in a dazed tone.

(Well, you hit your head pretty hard,) Faitios murmured quietly. (Y-You were screaming in your sleep. You said some…things that I don’t want to repeat.)

“What did I say, Faitios?” the MSE asked. The Skarmory turned away, and he had a horrible feeling that his Pokemon didn’t want to look at him. His eyes hardened. "What did I say?"

The metallic bird buried his head in his wings. Deifir stepped in front of Faitios protectively.

“Deifir, you tell me what I said,” Pokulok said heatedly.

(No,) the Absol replied softly.

“What?” he growled.

(Listen to me,) the black beast snarled, his fangs bared. (I’m not going to tell you exactly what you said, and neither of us want to try and remember it. I can’t see why you’d want to know what it was about.)

“Then what’s the harm in telling me?” the teenager asked.

(I’ve said all I’m going to say,) Deifir stated coldly. He looked at the cowering Skarmory with a sympathetic look. He padded over to Pokulok and whispered, (And if you try to force Faitios to tell you, I swear to Arceus that I’ll maul you to death. You may be our trainer, but you do not have the right to push him like that. Are we clear?)

“Crystal,” the MSE muttered through gritted teeth.

Deifir merely gave him a distant look before asking, (Shouldn’t you be getting your stuff?)

“Fine,” Pokulok muttered dismissively. He slowly got up from the pilot’s chair, ignoring the dull throb that pulsed through his head.

Why didn’t I bring my equipment to the pilot’s room?

The teenager shook his head as he opened the door. He looked around to survey the damage and smiled at his good fortune; the windows in the hallway hadn’t shattered from the impact, although the view was obscured by numerous web-like cracks. As he walked to his room, he noticed that a lot of the plaster had fallen off of the walls and ceiling, leaving behind the hardened metal it protected.

Lord, if I have to pay for all of this, it’s going to take at least two annual checks to cover the damages. Oh, wait a minute; I’m already paying two annual checks for my fucking court costs and detox. Shit…

Pokulok finally found his room and opened the door. To his utmost shock, he noticed that nothing inside of the room had suffered major damage. Even the bag with his equipment hadn’t moved from its customary spot on the nightstand. He quickly scanned the bag to check if the necessities were there.

Hacking kit, healing gel, DNA scanner, pistol…well, that’s pretty much everything. Wait, I’m missing something.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small golden oval-shaped locket lying forlornly on the floor. He delicately picked it up by its silver chain and held it in his left hand. He gently opened the locket, revealing a worn photograph held in place by several emeralds fused into the metal. A teenaged girl stared back at him, the happiness in her eyes unmistakable.

The girl was Andrea; he could tell that by her hair, eyes, and her confident smile. He knew that the picture had been taken around the time of the ball; otherwise, she wouldn’t have worn a dress for the occasion. Otherwise, this was Andrea as she lived. He clasped the locket to his chest.

(Admiring something?)

The MSE turned to face Faitios, whose eyes sparkled with glee. He sighed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back with Deifir?” he asked in a curious tone.

(Well, I figured that he was going to start assessing the damage,) the Skarmory said defensively. (I thought it would be fun to tag along with you.)

“Fine,” Pokulok said coolly.

(Well, I know that you didn’t just have a nightmare,) Faitios said cheerfully. (You were smiling too. What else did you dream about?)

The teenager hesitated, remembering Deifir’s words, but the innocent light in his Pokemon’s eyes won him over. “Remember the battle that we had against Andrea?” Pokulok asked cautiously. And the bet that came along with it…

(Of course!) the metallic bird laughed. (As I recall, she kicked your ass.)

“Yeah,” he muttered quietly, trying to avoid the eyes of his Pokemon. “That’s sort of what I dreamed about. I’m sorry I got you and Deifir all worried.”

(Hey, it’s no problem, Claude,) Faitios replied. (We’re all in it together. Three Musketeers, you know?)

“Sure,” the MSE mumbled. “Faitios, could you find Deifir and stay with him?”

(Whatever you say,) the Skarmory chirped. He spread his wings and fluttered away from the room. Pokulok took one last look at the locket and snapped it shut. He put the chain around his neck.

“Fuck it,” the teenager muttered. He took the pistol out of the bag, loaded a clip, and holstered it. He swung the bag over his shoulder effortlessly, but as he left the room, a nagging thought entered his mind.

What did I say?

When he reentered the pilot’s room and sat down on the chair, his Pokemon were waiting for him. Faitios raised a wing to greet him, but he noticed that Deifir was still distant.

(How’s the ship?) the Absol asked, not even bothering to look at his trainer.

“The ship’s fine,” Pokulok said while lying back in the chair. “I’m more concerned about the mission.” He gave the black beast a serious look. “We all need to be on the same page for something as big as this. If you have any concerns you want to air out, now’s the time to say them.”

The MSE knew that both of his Pokemon were hiding something from him, but they shook their heads. He nodded curtly.

“Alright,” he muttered. “We’re going in hot. Ten-thousand people and Pokemon don’t just vanish into thin air; there has to be someone on this ship who’s still alive and well. Keep an eye on your six, watch your corners, and stick together.”

(I never knew that you were a stickler for standard protocol,) Faitios chirped sardonically.

Pokulok shot an icy glare at his Pokemon. “This isn’t a joke!” he snapped. “We don’t know if the cause of the disappearances is still on the ship. For all we know, there could be a skilled force of UA fighters on board – and we can’t fight an army.”

Deifir snorted. (Well, no shit,) the Absol sneered. (If only Ignacius Webb was still here…I bet that he could-)

“You shut the fuck up!” the teenager spat furiously. “Don’t even mention his fucking name!”

If the Absol was bothered by his trainer’s sudden outburst, he didn’t show it. (Why not?) he asked nonchalantly. (You don’t have any personal connection to him.)

(Yeah, he sort of does,) Faitios mumbled. (Iggy Webb is An-)

“If I were one of you two, I’d think very carefully before saying anything else,” Pokulok said in a frigid tone. “This subject is not up for discussion. Clear?”

(Yes,) the Skarmory muttered, bowing his head. Deifir remained silent, while his trainer glared at him.

“Are – we – clear?” the MSE asked.

(Yeah,) Deifir said in a quiet tone, knowing that he had pushed his trainer too far.

Pokulok picked up the bubble-shaped helmet that lay on the floor and attached it to his suit. “Testing the portable transceiver,” he said in a muffled voice that slowly became clearer. “Checking gravity boots…okay, all systems are functioning. Let’s do this.”

(Wait a moment; what about us?) Faitios interrupted. (Don’t we get space gear? We can’t exactly breathe in space, you know.)

“Oh,” the MSE murmured. “Sorry about that.” He rummaged through his bag and finally pulled out two objects that were shaped like mouthpieces. “Here you go,” he said, attaching one to each of his Pokemon. “That should help. Are you ready?”

Both of his Pokemon nodded. The teenager pressed a button on the control panel.

“Computer, lower the ramp,” he said calmly.

“Command confirmed,” the female voice droned. “Have a safe mission. I hope that you burn!”

The MSE’s eyes widened with fear at the sound of Andrea’s voice. “I’m fine,” he said in a quiet voice. “It’s nothing but nerves. That’s all.”

(Claude?) Faitios asked timidly. (You’re okay, right?)

The MSE forced himself to nod. “Let’s get off the ship,” he muttered. “I want to get this mission over with.”

He slowly got up from the chair and walked out of the room.

Great. More memories that I don’t want…

“I didn’t want them either.”

Pokulok almost stopped walking, but his feet didn’t listen to his brain. They carried him toward the ramp while Andrea spoke.

“I mean, my father was a legend. How can I live up to a hero’s legacy? Iggy Webb was a hero. He ended the war, killed the UA leader, and freed Hoenn…how the hell do I live up to that?”

“Everyone gives me special treatment, everyone wants to be friends with me – and I don’t want any of it. All I want is for my father to come back home. I never even knew him…”

“Claude, you’re probably the only person here who doesn’t give a damn about who my father is. I guess that’s why I like you so much…”

When Pokulok finally snapped out of his memories, he noticed that he was right near the ramp. Andrea was blocking the exit, her back turned to Pokulok. However, when she turned to face him, he desperately wished that she hadn’t.

His dead friend wasn’t a decaying corpse, nor did she have any markings across her throat. In fact, aside from a few parts of her appearance, she looked downright normal. Still, the MSE couldn’t help but let out a horrified gasp when he saw that her eyes and mouth had been sewn shut. Instead of blood, pools of a black tar-like substance dripped from her eyes like miniature waterfalls.

Andrea blindly reached for the teenager with her hands, while he tripped in a fashion that would have seemed comical if he wasn’t completely scared. Her hands drew closer, wrapping themselves around his throat. Then, without warning, static flashed across his vision and the apparition was gone.

As Pokulok slowly got to his feet, he realized that he was still just two feet away from the ramp. He violently shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“That’s enough,” he growled to himself. “Just finish the goddamned mission. It’s just a nightmare. Nothing – more.”

[EonMaster One]

Yay. Revenant's back.

There were quite a few intriguing things going on in this chapter, as always:

“What did I say, Faitios?” the MSE asked. The Skarmory turned away, and he had a horrible feeling that his Pokemon didn’t want to look at him. His eyes hardened. "What did I say?"

The metallic bird buried his head in his wings. Deifir stepped in front of Faitios protectively.

“Deifir, you tell me what I said,” Pokulok said heatedly.

(No,) the Absol replied softly.

It's a bit bone-chilling that there's some sort of secret that's so horrible that his own Pokemon would rather attack him than let him find out.

When Pokulok finally snapped out of his memories, he noticed that he was right near the ramp. Andrea was blocking the exit, her back turned to Pokulok. However, when she turned to face him, he desperately wished that she hadn’t.

His dead friend wasn’t a decaying corpse, nor did she have any markings across her throat. In fact, aside from a few parts of her appearance, she looked downright normal. Still, the MSE couldn’t help but let out a horrified gasp when he saw that her eyes and mouth had been sewn shut. Instead of blood, pools of a black tar-like substance dripped from her eyes like miniature waterfalls.

Andrea blindly reached for the teenager with her hands, while he tripped in a fashion that would have seemed comical if he wasn’t completely scared. Her hands drew closer, wrapping themselves around his throat. Then, without warning, static flashed across his vision and the apparition was gone.

OH GOD! Must...unsee... O_O

You certainly have a gift for evoking some really frightening imagery. If I do have a concern about this story, it's in the pacing. Not in the length of time between chapters, although that doesn't help. It's just that I as a reader don't have any better idea what's going on now than I did in chapter one. Things still sort of feel like they're in the expository stage and I fear some readers might grow bored of the slow start after a while. Your chapters are also a bit short, which might be giving the illusion that this fic is starting really slow. What you do write, however, is masterful as always. I'm looking forward to seeing Chapter Four before too long.

- EM1

[GastlyMan]

My awesome review got deleted. >.< Not cool.

When Claude Pokulok opened his eyes again, he realized that he still wasn’t awake. For one thing, he felt absolutely no stress or anger. For another, he was standing on a sunlit beach in his native home of Mossdeep, surrounded by sand, palm trees, and ocean waves. A salty tang filled the air, and he thought that it carried the soft melody of a tribal song as well. He also noticed that he was wearing a casual outfit consisting of little more than a black T-shirt, green camouflage shorts, and sandals.

Excellent introductory scene, and great description.

“Lighty!” Andrea snapped. “You are not allowed to suck out the souls of my friend’s Pokemon! If you do that, I will return you to your pokeball, and you won’t get any snacks for the rest of your life.”

B-but...soul sucking is so much fun!

When Pokulok finally snapped out of his memories, he noticed that he was right near the ramp. Andrea was blocking the exit, her back turned to Pokulok. However, when she turned to face him, he desperately wished that she hadn’t.

His dead friend wasn’t a decaying corpse, nor did she have any markings across her throat. In fact, aside from a few parts of her appearance, she looked downright normal. Still, the MSE couldn’t help but let out a horrified gasp when he saw that her eyes and mouth had been sewn shut. Instead of blood, pools of a black tar-like substance dripped from her eyes like miniature waterfalls.

Andrea blindly reached for the teenager with her hands, while he tripped in a fashion that would have seemed comical if he wasn’t completely scared. Her hands drew closer, wrapping themselves around his throat. Then, without warning, static flashed across his vision and the apparition was gone.

As Pokulok slowly got to his feet, he realized that he was still just two feet away from the ramp. He violently shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“That’s enough,” he growled to himself. “Just finish the goddamned mission. It’s just a nightmare. Nothing – more.”

Whoaa. O_o Creepy. Not to mention extremely awesome! Good ending to the chapter...makes you want to keep reading to see what happens next.

Anyway - in terms of grammatical errors, I couldn't find any. Your plot, characters, and descriptions are all pretty good, so keep it up! ^^

[SilentMemento]

I'm sorry for not replying immediately; my computer decided to throw a hissy fit after I wouldn't let it play with its new friend, Mr. Trojan. Therefore, I had very limited Internet access until now.

It's a bit bone-chilling that there's some sort of secret that's so horrible that his own Pokemon would rather attack him than let him find out.

I'm glad you caught that. It's going to play a big role in the plot later on.

OH GOD! Must...unsee... O_O

Yeah, I was wondering how well that part was going to go. I guess I did my job, eh?

You certainly have a gift for evoking some really frightening imagery. If I do have a concern about this story, it's in the pacing. Not in the length of time between chapters, although that doesn't help. It's just that I as a reader don't have any better idea what's going on now than I did in chapter one. Things still sort of feel like they're in the expository stage and I fear some readers might grow bored of the slow start after a while. Your chapters are also a bit short, which might be giving the illusion that this fic is starting really slow. What you do write, however, is masterful as always. I'm looking forward to seeing Chapter Four before too long.

Yeah, I have to agree on every bit of what you said. I want to make this story a bit of a mystery in order to add suspense, so I'll admit that some readers might be bored with the slow pacing. I've been dropping a few hints in the last two chapters, but I will concede that they're probably too subtle for readers to get at this point.

I'll also concede that my chapters are too short. Thankfully, this next chapter will fix a lot of things, seeing as the primary antagonist will make their appearance.

My awesome review got deleted. >.< Not cool.

Yeah, that happens to me a lot of times as well.

Excellent introductory scene, and great description.

Thank you. I tried to base Mossdeep off of Hawaii (hence the tribal song), and I'm glad that the description was good.

B-but...soul sucking is so much fun!

True. Still, it's not cool to suck out your friend's soul and burn it to a crisp. You wouldn't have any friends if you did that. XD

Whoaa. O_o Creepy. Not to mention extremely awesome! Good ending to the chapter...makes you want to keep reading to see what happens next.

So you liked that scene as well? That's good. I like the fact that I can scare people early on; the scares are only going to get worse from there.

Chapter-wise, I'm shooting for a Halloween deadline (yeah, I know it's a total cliche). It might be a bit later than that, but I'm going to work on this story as much as my time and work schedule will allow me to.

Thank you so much for the reviews.

Sincerely,

Mem.

[Dramatic Melody]

“That’s enough,” he growled to himself. “Just finish the goddamned mission. It’s just a nightmare. Nothing – more.”

I felt like shouting "BUT OF COURSE THERE'S SOMETHING MORE!" XD


See, this chapter pretty much confirmed why I said Andrea was my favorite. =P Good use of the memories here, especially the battle scene - I liked the description in that scene, too, so yeah. =)

But now I'm beginning to wonder how huge the impact of the memories arc really is to the main story arc [or, at least, what I assume to be the main story arc, which is the mission]. They were presented much more prominently in this chapter - prominent enough for me to treat it as the main story arc, as opposed to the more subtle but intriguing way it was presented in the previous chapter. This isn't really a problem - perhaps it's your way of mixing them together to prepare the two arcs' eventual collision - but more of a quirk since my focus shifted.

Haha, I don't think that made any sense. Just read it as *ramblerambleramble* and move on. =P


Overall a really good chapter. I'd comment on how understandably annoyed I am of Absol but that would mean more rambling out of me. Haha. Can't wait for the next chapter! =)

[SilentMemento]

Hello, everyone. What better time is there to post a chapter to a horror story than Halloween? However, I have to answer the last review first:

I felt like shouting "BUT OF COURSE THERE'S SOMETHING MORE!" XD

I know. People can be so stubborn nowadays.

See, this chapter pretty much confirmed why I said Andrea was my favorite. =P Good use of the memories here, especially the battle scene - I liked the description in that scene, too, so yeah. =)

Yeah. You know, my favorite parts of this story to write are the ones with Andrea in them. I have a lot of fun writing her scenes, whether they're scary or simply...well, a memory.

But now I'm beginning to wonder how huge the impact of the memories arc really is to the main story arc [or, at least, what I assume to be the main story arc, which is the mission]. They were presented much more prominently in this chapter - prominent enough for me to treat it as the main story arc, as opposed to the more subtle but intriguing way it was presented in the previous chapter. This isn't really a problem - perhaps it's your way of mixing them together to prepare the two arcs' eventual collision - but more of a quirk since my focus shifted.

Haha, I don't think that made any sense. Just read it as *ramblerambleramble* and move on. =P

Nah, I understand what you meant. There's a real reason behind that change, and I'll see if you can figure it out.

Overall a really good chapter. I'd comment on how understandably annoyed I am of Absol but that would mean more rambling out of me. Haha. Can't wait for the next chapter! =)

Thank you for the compliment. I really enjoy hearing your perspective on this.

And now for the chapter I promised you guys:

Chapter Four

...

“It’s just a nightmare. Nothing – more.”

(Claude, what happened?)

Claude Pokulok turned to his right and saw Deifir, whose face was filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” the MSE muttered in a dreary tone.

The Absol wasn’t fooled. (You had another nightmare about Andrea, didn’t you?) the Pokemon stated bluntly. The teenager lowered his head, and Deifir let out a sigh. (Let her go, Claude. I’m serious; just let her go and move the fuck on with your life.)

Pokulok frowned. “Deifir, you know that I killed her. You were there. You saw everything.”

(You weren’t the one with the knife,) Deifir retorted.

“You don’t-”

(Understand? No, I don’t understand why you continuously blame yourself for the small role you had in her death. You only escalated the situation. He’s the one who slit her throat and left you in a coma.)

(Um, guys?)

Pokulok and Deifir turned to stare at Faitios, who took a sudden interest in his talons.

“What is it?” the MSE asked.

(I took the liberty of scouting the hangar,) the metallic bird murmured quietly, looking up to speak. (All of the escape ships are there.)

(You can’t be serious,) the Absol said, shaking his head. (That means that nobody left.)

“Unless someone dumped their bodies into space,” Pokulok said in a cold tone.

(That’s not possible, Claude,) Faitios replied insistently. (I didn’t see so much as a speck of blood, let alone a trail.)

“Did anyone clean the hangar?” the teenager queried, still trying to process the new information.

(This hangar doesn’t look like it’s ever been used,) Faitios mumbled. (Look, you’re going to have to see this for yourself.)

The MSE’s eyes were skeptical, but he followed the Skarmory into the hangar. When he reached the bottom of the ramp, his eyes widened in shock.

His Pokemon had been right. The hangar had the look of a house that had been abandoned for at least a decade. The sound of every footstep he made was softened by the dust that covered the floor. In fact, there was enough dust to leave behind the prints of his boots. Cobwebs were draped across every escape ship that he could see, and most of the lights on the roof had burned out. The ships themselves were in various stages of rust, the worst being practically inoperable.

(That’s at least twenty violations in the hangar alone,) Deifir said quietly. (Why in the hell would those idiots let their own escape ships fall into disrepair?)

“Never mind that,” Pokulok said angrily. “Why would our government give these people ships that are obviously expired?”

(Our government wouldn’t do that,) Deifir replied. (They have absolutely no reason to do something like that.)

“Then why are ships that have been tarnishing for decades sitting in this hangar?” the teenager snapped. “It takes years for ships to rust to such an extent; not even corrosive acids from poison-types would have an effect like that.” He pointed at a ship that had its hull covered in layers of rust.

(You’re not getting what I’m saying, Claude,) Deifir insisted. (Let’s use your idea and say that our government was dumb enough to give the Revenant defective ships. Why wouldn’t the higher-ups on board this ship file a complaint? It’s not like the PLAF wouldn’t listen; this is the largest, most important colony ship they have. If something went wrong, you’d think that this ship would get priority over everything else. So, why would our government give faulty escape ships to the Revenant? Something isn’t right.)

Pokulok opened his mouth to reply, but the enormity of his Pokemon’s words hit him like a freight train.

“So you’re basically saying…” he muttered before trailing off.

(Someone or something on board corroded the escape ships,) the Absol said in a matter-of-fact tone.

The MSE thought about his next move. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Let’s check the control tower for the data logs.” He pointed at a looming tower near the back of the hangar. “They should tell us everything we need to know. If the logs aren’t there, we’ll check the archives.”

(Unless someone deleted them,) Faitios chirped.

“The archives can’t be deleted, Faitios,” Pokulok explained, as he started to walk toward the control tower. “That’s where all of the important information in the Revenant is stored.”

(Oh,) the Skarmory mumbled before following his trainer.

When they started to walk toward their objective, a few features became noticeable. It was clear that the control tower was the only thing inside of the hangar that was actually used. The lights inside of the room were on, and someone was at the controls.

Wait a minute…

Pokulok crouched and pulled his pistol from its holster, gripping it with both hands. He trained his eyes on the figure inside the control tower. Even at the close distance, it was impossible to see what the person’s features were.

(Claude?) Faitios asked cautiously.

“Someone’s in the tower,” the MSE whispered. “You see them?”

He turned to his right to see Deifir look up. (Yeah, I see them,) the Absol replied calmly, his eyes not showing a sliver of emotion. (What do you want us to do?)

“Let’s get inside, and we’ll proceed from there,” the teenager said.

Pokulok began to move toward the door, his Pokemon following him. He gave it a soft push, and to his disbelief, it opened with a loud creak. He quickly entered the tower and moved up the stairs, focusing only on his objective. His heart seemed to race faster with each step. When he reached the top of the tower, he noticed that the door to the control room was closed. He waited until his Pokemon were with him.

“Ready?” he whispered in an impossibly-soft voice. When he saw his two Pokemon nod, he moved back, pointed his handgun at the door, and kicked it open. When he saw what the room contained, his mouth unconsciously opened in surprise.

There was nobody inside.

“Clear,” Pokulok said coolly, holstering his weapon. When he entered the room, he noticed that almost nothing in the room was working. The lone exception was the control panel, which served as the only source of light. He moved toward the control panel and pressed the button for the logs.

“Computer,” he ordered. “Access the logs. If unable, use the archives.”

When the AI didn’t respond, Deifir let out an impatient snort. (Just access it manually,) the Absol muttered.

“My God, quit being so hasty,” the MSE said, rolling his eyes. When he tried to press the button again, a few sparks flew up, and a sharp hiss echoed through the room.

“Shit!” Pokulok spat, shaking his hand. “The archives are worthless as well? Who the hell’s running this place?” Both of his Pokemon had the sense to ignore his rhetorical question, while he angrily shook his head. “Fuck it. I’m calling the command center.”

(I don’t think Lieutenant Dredge is going to like that very much,) Faitios murmured.

“I don’t give a damn if he likes it or not!” the teenager snapped, pulling out his transceiver. He pressed the button. “Come in, command. This is MSE Second Class Pokulok. The primary objective is impossible to complete; I cannot access the archives. How do I proceed?”

Two seconds passed before someone replied to him.

“Hello?” a low masculine voice answered in a thick accent that sounded Sinnohan in origin. “Do you wish to speak with Lieutenant Dredge?”

“The hell I do!” growled Pokulok. “I’m not exactly in the mood to talk to his secretary.”

“I think I’m perfectly able to respond to any message that you send,” the man said calmly.

“I told you that I need to speak with Dredge,” the teenager said icily. “I don’t think that you count, seeing as you’re his lackey.”

“I don’t think you realize who I am.”

“Oh, and who the fuck are you?”

“Major Marcus Jennings.”

The MSE’s jaw dropped. “Oh, shit,” he said awkwardly. He quickly closed his mouth before he could say anything else.

“No, go on,” Jennings said in a cold tone. “I’d love to see how far mocking the commander’s son gets you, Claude.”

“No, no, I-I didn’t realize who you were,” Pokulok mumbled. “I’m sorry about what I said, sir.”

“Your apology is accepted,” the major replied. “Don’t do that again; I’d hate for you to get fired because of something you said rather than something you did.”

Pokulok sighed. “How do I proceed? If I can’t access the arc-”

“Then you go to the next plan. Move into the ship itself, gather the data that’s required, and leave.”

“I don’t have the schematics for the Revenant.”

“They’re on your transceiver, Claude. Dredge told you that, didn’t he?”

The MSE quickly checked his transceiver and noticed that Jennings was right. “Okay,” he muttered curtly. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“Actually, I need you to-”

Pokulok turned the transceiver off with a sigh.

(Claude?) He turned to see his two Pokemon. (Who were you talking to?) Faitios asked.

“I just cussed out Marcus Jennings and hung up on him,” the teenager said in a tone that sounded like a man on his deathbed.

(Jennings?) Deifir replied. (That guy’s a total ass.)

(Speak for yourself,) the Skarmory chirped sarcastically.

(What’s that supposed to mean?) the Absol snarled, his hackles rising.

“Knock it off!” the teenager snapped. He breathed to calm himself down. “There’s nothing here to see. Where’s the nearest exit from the hangar?”

Faitios nodded his head toward a door near the tower that the MSE hadn’t noticed before. (It’s right there,) the Skarmory said nervously. His eyes darted from side to side. (Can we leave now and say that we checked the ship?)

Pokulok shook his head. “Not until we collect the necessary data.”

(You know, I hate to agree with the coward, but I think that I’ll make an exception this time,) Deifir mumbled uneasily. (There are things that aren’t adding up.)

“So you’re scared because you think that things aren’t adding up,” Pokulok said in disbelief. “I know you’re an Absol, but that’s really pathetic, especially for you.”

(Okay, smartass,) the cat-like beast growled. (Explain why there was nobody in here when we all saw something making a shadow.)

“I’ve learned not to trust everything I see,” the teenager said dismissively.

Deifir snorted scornfully. (That’s a bunch of crap, and you know it. Normally, I’d say that there’s a ghost-type around here that’s trying to mess with us, but I think it’s a lot worse.)

(What do you mean by that?) Faitios asked curiously.

(What else can vanish through solid walls and still manage to create a shadow?) Deifir retorted. (Whatever was in there had to have done that; there’s only one way in or out of this tower.)

“But why did you say that you’d ‘normally’ think that?” Pokulok asked skeptically.

(Claude, the lights are off,) the Absol said flatly. (And there’s no fucking way that the control panel would have lit up the room from where we saw it.)

The MSE grimaced. “It was an illusion?” he asked, mentally slapping himself for not grasping the answer sooner.

Deifir nodded. (I’d say that it would take something with the psychic abilities of a Mismagius or a Gengar to fool all of us, but that still doesn’t add up.)

“What?”

(You remember what Magick was like, don’t you? Her illusions were more like pranks than anything. And the Gengar line is renowned for tricking people for fun. This illusion was designed specifically to make us feel apprehensive – and if it was a prank, the ghost would have revealed themselves by now to laugh about it. I think that this is something much worse. Did that explanation describe enough for you?)

Before Pokulok could reply to his Pokemon’s message, a soft noise began to hum through the air, slowly forming indecipherable words. His ears felt the force of the noise begin to increase with startling speed until he could hear two words inside of his mind.

“Who dares?!”

The voice was like nothing he had ever heard; it was low, malicious, and it was as if the words had been violently ripped from the speaker’s throat – but he felt drawn to the harmony of its two differing, yet inseparable tones. It was like there were two people using the same voice. His surroundings blurred as the force of the thing pulled him from reality and into a deep gray fog.

“I dare,” he murmured quietly.

“You do?” the voice asked in a tone of contempt. “How very typical; it’s always the humans who are the first to intrude upon our territory.”

“You’re a ghost Pokemon, aren’t you?” the adolescent asked calmly, trying not to betray a hint of fear. “Show yourself.”

“You ask a difficult question,” the voice mused after a short pause. “Are we a Pokemon? No. We are far more advanced than any Pokemon that has ever existed. Still, you also asked if we were a ghost. We can’t answer that question. That answer is for you to find.”

“I said for you to show yourself!” the MSE spat furiously.

A screech tore through the mist, sounding like a river of diamonds scraping over ice. The screech continued in smaller increments that slowly died down, and Pokulok began to realize that the thing was laughing.

“Your stubbornness is very amusing, Claude Laurent Pokulok,” the voice sneered.

The adolescent froze before trying to regain his composure. “How do you know my name?” he snarled, desperately attempting to curb the fear in his voice. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

“Oh, those questions are easy,” the voice replied coolly. “You’re disappointing us, Claude; we expected more than this. The answer to the first question is simple; we scanned your mind when you first trespassed into the ship. Human minds aren’t nearly as complex as they would like to think. To be quite honest, the lack of variety is rather boring.

“As for the latter questions, we are the Revenant. The ship was where we were born, and the ship is where we take our name. And the only thing we wanted at the moment was the chance to have this little chat in order to remove your ship from the picture. Thank you so much for staying forever!”

“What?” Pokulok said in confusion. The fog began to lift, and when he saw his surroundings clearly, he let out a frustrated yell.

He was back in the hangar, but every ship – including the one he came on – had vanished. Faitios and Deifir stood in front of him, and they looked like they had seen the Devil.

“What the hell happened?” he snapped at them. “Where did our ship go?”

Faitios stared at his talons, while Deifir gazed at Claude impassively. (I don’t know,) the Absol replied.

“I don’t believe you,” the teenager said in an agitated tone. His eyes darted toward the hangar, as if looking around could make his vessel reappear. “You were right there; you had to have seen something.”

(I’m telling you the truth,) the black beast insisted. (There was this mist that drowned out everything, and when it cleared up, the ships were gone.)

(Yeah, Deifir’s right, Claude,) Faitios mumbled. (It happened to me as well.)

Pokulok turned toward Deifir. “The thing that made the mist called itself the Revenant. It also said that it was born inside of this ship. What do you think?”

(Well, obviously the people onboard were studying this thing and they gave it the name,) Deifir replied. (I can see why they’d study it; the powers it’s shown so far would make our military generals swoon.)

“Fair enough,” the teenager said calmly. “That still doesn’t explain why it said it was born on the ship.”

Faitios shrugged. (Maybe it’s an experiment?)

(You know, that’s actually not a bad idea,) the Absol said in an interested tone.

“There’s no way they’d attempt a dangerous experiment on their biggest colony ship,” Pokulok stated bluntly. “They’d have to be absolutely moronic to even think about it.”

His Pokemon said nothing in reply. The MSE shook his head as his mind tried to piece together a solution to the problem at hand.

“Okay, we have to figure out what the hell is going on,” he said with conviction. “We have to get into the rest of the ship.”

(Um, Claude?) Faitios asked timidly.

“‘Let’s not do it and say we did’ is not an answer I’m going to accept, Faitios,” the adolescent interrupted stubbornly, as he walked toward the hangar exit. He had only taken five steps before fog rose up from the ground and completely surrounded the area. The Revenant’s laugh echoed from everywhere.

“Ah, so you’re not going to wait for us to come to you?” it queried.

“Do you realize that we’re going to hunt you down and kill you?” Pokulok retorted. He tried to walk through the fog, but quickly abandoned the effort when his feet stuck to the surface. “I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you.”

“You really think that you can make demands to someone like us?” the thing asked in amusement.

“I’m not demanding anything,” the MSE growled heatedly. “I’m threatening you. Or do you even know the difference?”

“You misunderstand our point, Claude,” the Revenant said disarmingly. “We realize that you’re making threats. All we mean to say is that we don’t really care about them.”

“What?”

“You, your Pokemon, and most of humanity and Pokemon-kind are mere specks of dust in an entire universe. Fate cares nothing for the exploits of people who refuse to make their own destinies. Only those who transcend mortality and become legendary-”

“Just get to your goddamned point!” Pokulok snapped angrily. “What the hell makes you think you’re so superior to everyone?”

The thing paused. “You believe that we’re lying to you,” it said in a cold voice that sent shudders through the MSE’s skin. “Very well, Claude. We’ll just have to show you exactly what we can do. There is a man in the security room of the ship who is alive for the moment. However, he will die if you fail to play our game.”

The teenager’s heart started to race while his mind tried to process the new information. “You never mentioned anything about a hostage,” he said slowly.

“We never needed to before your stubborn streak decided to show its face. Now will you join us in sport? There are plenty of hostages to play with, you know.”

Pokulok felt his blood begin to freeze. “How many?” he asked hoarsely.

“Since you asked, we have the entire population of this ship as hostages.”

“You’re lying.”

“They’re all in the dining room under our control. We’ve used vivid hallucinations to keep them from communicating with each other or starting an uprising or attempting something similarly idiotic. You may attempt to rescue them. You won’t succeed, but it would be rather amusing to see your anger and frustration.”

The MSE ignored the jibe. He quickly sifted through his mind to come up with a plan, but he quickly realized that there wasn’t much he could do to trick something that could use illusions as powerful as the ones he had seen.

Fuck it. I’ll play this one by ear and rescue the hostage in the security room. Right now, I have to do what this thing says. Maybe that person can tell me more about what’s going on.

“I’ll do what you say,” he said coldly. “Just know that I’m going to stab your fucking heart out when this is over.”

“We must thank you for seeing things our way,” the Revenant said in a pleasant tone. “We will not place a time limit on this challenge. However, you must not be seen, you must not use your Pokemon, and time is of the essence.”

“Why is time of the essence when you’re not even placing a limit?” Pokulok asked suspiciously. “That’s completely contradictory.”

“You’ll find out.”

When the mist lifted, he noticed that he was right next to the hangar exit with Faitios and Deifir at his side.

(What the hell happened?) the Skarmory asked in an odd mixture of fear and confusion. The feathers along his spine and tail were standing rigidly. (What’s with this stupid mist?)

(Obviously, that thing decided to make another appearance,) the Absol snarled. He bared his fangs and flexed his claws instinctively. (What did it say, Claude?)

Pokulok bowed his head. “You guys have to stay here,” he murmured.

(What?) Deifir asked incredulously.

(Claude, why are you asking us to do that?) Faitios chimed in.

“Because I have to!” the MSE spat. He then sighed regretfully. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t get angry at you guys. It’s this bastard who deserves it.”

His Pokemon nodded understandingly. (Keep in touch with us, okay?) Faitios asked.

“What do you mea-”

(Your collar, Claude,) Deifir reminded him gently. (It connects us to your nervous system; we can contact each other at any time.)

“Oh, yeah,” Pokulok replied quietly. He quickly turned to the door and tried to turn the handle. He sniffed contemptuously when it wouldn’t turn. “The door’s locked. At least I know why they asked me to bring my hacking kit.”

The teenager rummaged through his bag and pulled out a small metal cylinder with a knob on the bottom. He pulled the part with the knob away from the rest of the rod and turned the dial. He smiled when he heard a click. Putting the hacking device away, he turned the handle and opened the door to reveal an unlit hallway.

He turned toward his Pokemon. “I want an update every fifteen minutes or so,” he said in a serious tone. “Got it?”

(Understood,) his Pokemon replied simultaneously.

He nodded, drew his pistol, and entered into the hallway. He had only gone a short distance before the light faded entirely.

“I never thought I’d prefer the fog over this,” he muttered angrily, switching on the night vision inside of his helmet.

Progress was painfully slow. Every sound, no matter how small, seemed to echo in the narrow hallway. Even with the helmet showing him the general direction, he still had a mere three feet of visibility. He was almost tempted to use the flashlight feature on his pistol, but he knew that he would be seen if he did that.

Still, the worst thing was that he was completely lost. He had tried using his transceiver as a GPS, but it seemed like every turn it told him to make led to a dead end. Fear was just beginning to crawl down his skin when a soft voice echoed inside of his mind.

(Hey, Claude,) Faitios said tentatively. (I don’t know how you’re doing, but we’re fine. Nothing’s happened, so…that’s pretty much our update.)

Pokulok took a calm breath and some of the fear seemed to subside with the realization that his Pokemon were okay. He quickly began to make his way toward a hallway that split in two directions. He quickly checked both corners and took a step to the left side. He immediately stopped when he felt a solid spherical object underneath his boot. Out of curiosity, he looked down. To his relief, the thing he stepped on was nothing more than an ancient baseball. He picked it up, immediately noticing a signature.

I have to admit that this is a nice autograph, but who the hell is David Freese?

The MSE shrugged and rolled the ball down the left hallway, waiting until there was nothing but silence. He had just turned his back when a loud bouncing sound came from behind him. He turned to see the very same baseball rolling back toward him. Panic began to force his way down his throat as he quickly walked away from the ball.

What in God’s name is with this place?

Corridor after corridor seemed to fly by him. He kept moving straight until he could see a bit of light coming from a right turn. He nearly flung himself toward the light before remembering his training about checking corners. He paused right before the turn and peeked around the corner.

Down the brightly-lit hallway, there was a fully-armed soldier wearing a green crossed wheel - the UA insignia - on his smoky-gray armor. The soldier’s black visor nearly turned to look at Pokulok before the latter pulled his head back. The teenager breathed through his nose to calm himself. He checked his pistol and quickly turned the corner to fire at his foe, only to stop himself when he realized that the soldier had disappeared. In fact, there was no sign that anyone had ever been in the hallway. The only thing that hadn’t changed was that there was still light.

Another illusion? Ah, you’ve got to be kidding me!

The teenager moved down the corridor and breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed a sign pointing him in the direction of the security room. He began to pray that there weren’t any more surprises planned for him. His prayers went unanswered as an earsplitting boom echoed from down the hallway.

A shotgun?! Oh, God…please don’t let it be the hostage.

He raced down the corridor, ignoring the overpowering scent of blood emanating from it. The entrance to the security room seemed to jump at the young MSE. He quickly kicked down the locked door and let out a horrified cry.

Despite almost all of the cameras on the ship being in other places, the only image that showed on the many screens was the contents of the room. However, the thing that Pokulok couldn’t turn his eyes away from lay against a corner. The male hostage had been killed by a close-range shotgun blast to the head. The shotgun itself lay on the man’s lap.

He then noticed something out of the corner of his eye. There was a small object curled around the man’s hand that looked extremely familiar. He moved toward the body and yanked the object out of its hands. He stared at it in dismay and let out a small sob.

The object was a necklace that had an odd white symbol on the end. The symbol was exactly what Arceus was said to have had on its back, except with a winding pink line going from the top of the spiked circle to the bottom. The teenager only knew one person who had a necklace like that.

The Revenant’s cruel laugh seemed to echo through the room, despite the lack of its customary fog. “Do you still think that you’re in control?” it sneered.

The corpse was that of Pokulok’s former commanding officer, Jerrell Harris.

[donotlookatdiagram]

Review game.

Space is supposedly the final frontier.

SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!!!!!! Interesting setting for a psychological horror.

There are even Pokemon that reside in the depths of space that are rarely seen and hardly ever recorded. Not all of them are friendly.

Oh, boy. Fakemon.

Pokulok suddenly realized what she was suggesting. He tried to protest, but no noise reverberated from his tongue. The girl looked at him piteously.

I totes forgot this was a dream. I thought you were really killing him off this early.

“You have no idea how*lonely*I am, Claude,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I just want to see you again. I know that it’s your life, but I wouldn’t ask without a good reason.”

This chick creeps me out.

He violently vomited all over the cold linoleum floor, feeling the vile substance spill over his throat like it was a river. His gut wasn’t satisfied with that display, and Pokulok ended up dry-heaving for at least two more agonizing minutes. A disgusted look came over his face when he noticed that most of his fingers were covered in his sick.

Pleasant.

A nearby mirror imitated his motions, as he turned on the cold water.

You don't need the comma.

Using his right hand to hold himself upright, he traced the serpentine scar that went from one side of his stomach to the other side.

Wait, so, when he cut himself in his dream, he did it in real life?

(Nothing,) Faitios said. His eyes held a mischievous look in their depths. (You just reminded us of the bet you lost when you were thirteen.)

Pokulok’s smile instantly faded. “Please stop,” he muttered with gritted teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

(At least you followed through when you lost,) Faitios snickered, oblivious to his trainer’s emotions. (Besides, you actually looked good in a dr-)

(Stop embarrassing him,) Deifir interrupted. His eyes were filled with mirth. (He looks like a pretty little rose that’s ready to bloom.) The Absol laughed.

(That’s not nice, Deifir,) the Skarmory said merrily. (Still, you’re right about our precious flower – oops! Did I say ‘flower?’) The bird-like Pokemon let out a giggle.

This made me giggle.

“I – hate – drugs…” he muttered, as he managed to get to his feet, clinging to the bedpost. “Ugh…I feel like crap.”

Umm... Are you talking recreational drugs (marajuana, cocaine, etc) or medicine drugs (ADD pills/ Antidepressants would seem fitting here)?

Still, if he ever got captured, if there was a situation where he had to die in order to protect vital information…

Ooh, fun! He gets his head blown off!

My eyelids! Oh, GOD!

YAY! Eyelid removal! (That's a new one.)

(Oh, it feels good to be back out,) Faitios said in a content tone, stretching out his wings. (Still, what’s with the beach?)

(This is Mossdeep, genius,) Deifir muttered while rolling his eyes. (Island communities*always*have beaches. Use your brain before you open your beak.)

(Mossdeep’s a city, not an island community,) the Skarmory said. (Oh, and not every island has a beach. What about the volcanic ground in Sootopolis? Maybe you should think before you insult me.)

(Mossdeep is the name of the city*and*the island, you ignoramus,) growled the Absol. (And islands*always*have beaches, even if they’re little more than volcanic rock! Good Arceus, if your brain was made of birdseed, you would have starved to death before you were born.)

More giggling.

“Lighty!” Andrea snapped. “You are*not*allowed to suck out the souls of my friend’s Pokemon! If you do that, I will return you to your pokeball, and you won’t get any snacks for the rest of your*life.”

This is so amusing. Also, it still doesn't make Andrea any less creepy. Love it.

(Yes, I would, Magick Mismagius,) the Chandelure said in an annoyed tone.

You know what? I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that the remainder of this scene is incredibly amusing.

The girl was Andrea; he could tell that by her hair, eyes, and her confident smile. He knew that the picture had been taken around the time of the ball; otherwise, she wouldn’t have worn a dress for the occasion. Otherwise, this was Andrea as she lived. He clasped the locket to his chest.

This adorable moment brought to you by Miss Creepy Chick.

His dead friend wasn’t a decaying corpse, nor did she have any markings across her throat. In fact, aside from a few parts of her appearance, she looked downright*normal.

Yay! She's alive!

Still, the MSE couldn’t help but let out a horrified gasp when he saw that her eyes and mouth had been sewn shut. Instead of blood, pools of a black tar-like substance dripped from her eyes like miniature waterfalls.

...Or not. That's cool too.

...I'll review the last chapter when I have time.

[GastlyMan]

(Understand? No, I don’t understand why you continuously blame yourself for the small role you had in her death. You only escalated the situation. He’s the one who slit her throat and left you in a coma.)

Interesting! I wonder who exactly “he” is, and what role he played. (Unless you mentioned him earlier, and it slipped my mind.)


“You ask a difficult question,” the voice mused after a short pause. “Are we a Pokemon? No. We are far more advanced than any Pokemon that has ever existed. Still, you also asked if we were a ghost. We can’t answer that question. That answer is for you to find.”

“I said for you to show yourself!” the MSE spat furiously.

A screech tore through the mist, sounding like a river of diamonds scraping over ice. The screech continued in smaller increments that slowly died down, and Pokulok began to realize that the thing was laughing.

“Your stubbornness is very amusing, Claude Laurent Pokulok,” the voice sneered.

That is awesome. It’s cool how it speaks as “we,” yet at the same time acts like only one person.

The Revenant’s cruel laugh seemed to echo through the room, despite the lack of its customary fog. “Do you still think that you’re in control?” it sneered.

The corpse was that of Pokulok’s former commanding officer, Jerrell Harris.

Whoa...that is freaky :O Excited to see what happens next...

I'm really liking your setting. I'm interested to see what other terrors the spaceship holds.