My Heroic Pokémon Squad

Chapter Nine: Stranger

The room was red; the indisputable color that commanded attention, yet the hue was a deeper tone, like blood. It remained eerily silent with no semblance of noise to permeate. Even (Y/n) who stood in the very center did not dare make a sound.

It was odd; her heartbeat raced though it was not out of fear. Rather, she felt the warmth of anticipation—the tightness in her chest so stifling she had to remember to breathe. When she felt a growing sense of stability she began to move. Her strides were flighty like a feather in the breeze as she scoured the space. At first there was nothing, but she would blink, and everything came to fruition. A couch and table accompanied with stools made the space look more homely; though it looked sparse compared to how endless the room appeared to be. Not a corner was in sight, but as she looked behind her, a simple door stood vacantly. There were no hinges nor was it attached to a way. Just decorated hardwood standing in place.

To her right she notices a light. A fireplace manifests itself with a prominent flame dancing within it. Strangely, it was not the usual imposing orange but a mystic blue. She doesn't know why she was so quick to hover her hands over the flame, but instead of a searing heat there is none. It was like lukewarm water: mild and immersive. Inviting.

And as she pulls away, the space had since created shelves upon shelves. They stretched as far as the eyes could see from what she could discern, a handful of objects looked to sit on them from a distance. They were blobs of color that gradually began to take form as she got closer and her eyes widened, a childlike laugh coming her otherwise silent voice. Pokémon were what sat on these shelves, rather they were stuffed toys versions of them. Honchkrow, Carracosta, Raichu, and Rotom were all placed next to each other, each of a default expression based on their personality. Picking up the crafted fabric, fondness overcame her she inspected them. They were high-quality and without a loose stitch. Safe and sound.

More plushes sat steps away, creating a gap between them and the squad. And of course, each and every one depicted a pokémon that she had befriended that night. Though as she touch to inspect they felt no different. She felt the same familial mood as she looked over their crafted forms. With a deep breath, the girl takes each plush one by one effectively putting them all into one place. She looks over her small effort proudly.

The small victory is short-lived, gone as quickly as it was celebrated. The red room began to get dimmer. Whatever vision she had was slowly fading away and everything that had surrounded before disappeared without a trace. It was a dark, deep murky black that replaced the red. Her already racing heart spiked as anticipation grew. Then, the surface shook from underneath. As if the floor beneath her were made of thin glass, something cracks and she falls through the surface she had stood, and was now freefalling into the abyss.

With a yelp, (Y/n) abruptly wakes. Moving to give herself leverage, she fails to notice that her body hanged halfway off the bed; and without the proper support, she kicks up the blankets as she falls to the floor. Honchkrow startles from his perch on the headboard and moves to meet his trainer. When they meet eyes, the ever inquisitive expression of her winged friend prompts a response.

"I had a bad dream is all.." The girl releases a worn-out sigh.

Rather than lifting herself from the carpet, she remains in her newfound spot to decompress. Like usual, the dim rays of the sun peeked through the dorm's cream curtains signifying the early morning. Despite going to bed later than expected, her eyes remained to open at the first semblance of sunlight every day. She thought back to everything that had happened—the dream and the night at the mansion. The experience had imprinted itself in her mind, an unfortunate situation with an outcome that felt unresolved; dissatisfying. That red room...the stuffed toys of the pokémon she had met radiated a phantom warmth to an otherwise cold atmosphere. Yet, despite its desolation there was no denying the tender response she had when dwelling in that space. It was lucid, like being set somewhere tangible even when it wasn't.