Whispers in the Dark「Pokemon Fanfiction」

ᴢᴇʀᴏ • ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ

Chapter Zero: In The Dark

Night sky stood like a proud soldier at attention, an inky canopy of darkness providing a scathing curtain to the gloomy details of the world. A blanket of stars graced the pitch darkness with a fleeting glow, and the crescent moon hung still, its ethereal lumimescence threading through each nook and cranny of murky shadows that it met.

The nearby lake glistened, mirroring the dazzling assemblage of glittering stars, shining and twinkling in all their glorious luminescence. The grassy scenery was tranquil, eerily silent—

—until the sound of a single ripple pierced the rapt quiet, shattering the picture-perfect image of the hushed landscape, hypnotising circles carved out on the water's glassy surface.

It was a tiny splash, but a dizzying, terrifying crack in the dim ebony.

It was a voice, a bad seed planted at the back of one's mind, something insignificant that could spiral into neverending insanity, etched in their wretched memory and never going away.

A whisper in the dark.

• • •

The Pokemon's legs may have been small and stubby, but she moved with such captivating grace— it seemed like water that had taken a physical form, moving in a mesmerising, balletic fashion with limbs that glided over the ground's smooth surface.

She cast an amber gaze on the shadowed figures that fidgeted before her in such a restless manner, pale ruby irises waning but intense, milky coat seeming candescent against the enigmatic swirl of dull colours.

The catlike scowl on her face morphed into a portentous smirk, so wide and unnatural that it might have had been called an insane, unhinged grin.

Of course, today is absolutely crucial. The thought floated into her mind like a swaying flower in a dying breeze. It's about time my plan is carried out.

She felt the shifting of the frightened children around her— pawns that she had raised for years, no younger than seven, no older than ten. I have had so many subjects, and it has taken me far too long to find a perfect candidate to be shaped. They are all too weak, too easy too manipulate— too devoid of emotions for my liking.

I will show the world what true happiness is. The feline creature shifted, performing a half pirouette in her unconscious state of mind and facing the flock of livestock once again. That an ideal world is one without any emotions or dreams, a world where nobody gets hurt from malicious issues.

Yes, the only way to be truly happy is if we are all equal.

Holding that thought, she sought the fluctuating aura of a young girl— specifically, the shivering one that was eyeing her from a corner with understandable suspicion. She had felt that human's gaze burning into her when her back was turned— something she was able to achieve with an inbuilt gift of psychic intuition.

Emotions are quite a dangerous weapon, she told the girl in front of her. Yet, despite how much I despise them, I have to admit that they are useful.

She let a wave of psychic energy rip past the meagre container of her mind and into the open, slicing through the air like a razor-sharp sword, her psychotic smile replaced with an unamused sneer.

Why haven't you succumbed? The Meowstic tilted her head back, looking down on the crumpled mess that trembled by her feet, clutching her head in blithe agony as her paranormal abilities caused her pure torture. The others are all perfectly under my control. So, tell me. Why are you different?