Who's There?

Prologue
Chapter 1

Pitch had found a perfect place to hide: not even the smallest beam of daylight came through the sealed window of the attic. It looked like someone had lived there once: there was a couch, a writing desk and endless bookshelves. On the desk there was a framed photograph: a black-haired man and a woman in glasses. They looked like a happy couple, and there were two cat-like creatures with them: one black and one… of a lighter color. Even Pitch wasn’t good at distinguishing colors in the dark. They weren’t important for a creature of darkness anyway. But what he found interesting was a small mourning ribbon on the man’s half of the picture. It went across the side of his head, as if crossing him out from the land of the living.

- Now that’s interesting, - Pitch murmured, studying the man’s face: death has always been a fruitful theme for nightmares. The room looked a little dusty, and there was a case of stairs that led to a lower floor. The door, however, was sealed just like the window.

Come the night, Pitch would certainly visit the resident of the lower floor. People that sealed off the rooms of their deceased were quite amusing to scare.

***

- Hey! How did you get here?

- You… can see me? - Pitch was startled more than the woman he was going to haunt: it was the first human in this world to actually see him.

- Why, yes! If you’re supposed to be invisible, I’ve got bad news for you: most psychics can see spirits!

- I’m not just some spirit, - he protested. - I am Pitch Black, the King of Nightmares!

- Never heard of you, - the woman said in a way that was not insulting at all. - It’s Darkrai who is in charge of nightmares. Though he’s not as evil as you’d think: he usually sends them as a warning, and in this manner he actually saved our town!

- Nightmares saving a town - a strange world indeed! - Pitch muttered.

- Are you saying you’re from another world? Please tell me more of it! - Pitch had mixed feelings about this: he didn’t come here to socialize, but the idea of having a conversation was alluring. - But I forgot to present myself. How rude of me! My name is Celine, and by a very ironic coincidence, I am a hypnotist who cures people of phobias and nightmares.

She held out a hand, and for a moment Pitch hesitated: how strong a psychic this woman was? What if her touch would dissolve him? The thought brought him into indignant shame: the King of Nightmares afraid of some skinny girl! He grabbed her hand, and to his slight amazement, it felt like he was a normal person performing a normal handshake. Celine’s fingers were long and delicate, and it seemed like a lifetime ago since he felt the warmth of a human. She was a head and a half shorter than him - an impressive height for a girl! - and just as lean. Her clothing was casual: a checkered shirt and distressed blue jeans - but it suited her well. Her light pink hair was fashioned into a loose ponytail that hung down her shoulder blades.

- Your hair is the strangest color, - he noted absent-mindedly, letting go of her hand with some reluctance.

- You think so? - Celine’s smile showed a bit of shyness: she took his words as a very awkward compliment, which made it even sweeter. She liked a bit of awkwardness: it was usually a sign of integrity… in people at least. But she knew better than to be careless around cold-handed spirits. - A lot of people have this color - in this region, at least.

- Does your region have Guardians? - Pitch inquired cautiously.

- Well, Darkrai may be counted as one… And his Lunar adversary, Cresselia, - she noticed how the word “Lunar” made Pitch cringe somewhat, but a curious new idea blocked it out of her mind. - By the way, I’d like to check one thing… - Without exactly asking Pitch’s consent she took off her amulet, which was shaped like a big teardrop with an eye in it, and held it out inches from Pitch’s face. Panic started rising from the back of his mind, but he reacted no sooner than she pressed the blue jewel that was the eye’s iris - and in a flash of golden light a magnificent feather appeared, swaying gently in the air. At this very second Pitch let out a scream, as he was shot out of the room like a jet-black thunderbolt.

- I’m sorry! - Celine yelled as she rushed to the window, seeing no trace of Pitch. - I didn’t know the Lunar Wing would really work against you! - she looked bitterly at the feather that was slowly descendind to the floor, before retrieving it into her amulet, which worked very much like a Pokeball for artefacts. She didn’t use her Lunar Wing very often: it was the last resort for curing deep lasting nightmares caused by Darkrai. The Wing amplified her psychic powers from inside the amulet, but revealing it too often would exhaust its energy. It had not been an easy quest to receive the feather from Cresselia: the celestial swan was capricious and arrogant, not too eager to bless mere humans with its royal presence.

Darkrai, on the other hand, appreciated human company - and Celine sought the company of Darkrai. She rarely saw him and didn’t dare to approach, but the garden he inhabited was her favourite place to visit. The phantom Pokemon held a special place in her heart ever since he’d sacrificed himself for the sake of the town. It was a blessing to know that he’d returned, even though her soulmate - Marcus, with his raven hair and mysterious smile - was lost forever. Only Arceus could've brought back every soul which perished that day.

***

That night Celine experienced an uncommonly vivid nightmare. There was Marcus riding a monstrous black horse, and as he rode (floated?) closer, his features shifted into a peculiar shape she recognized instantly. But Celine wouldn’t be a real psychic if she hadn’t learnt to take control of her dreams. She felt for her precious amulet - it hadn’t been there, but with a medium effort of concentration it appeared right in her hand - and shot the Lunar feather right into the imposter’s face.

He exploded into a small cloud of shining vapor, but as the smoke drifted away, she could recognize a dark silhouette. It opened a single eye of piercing blue and slowly but imminently extended a clawed hand toward her, as she stayed there paralyzed by the hostile, unearthly gaze.

- Darkrai! - she whispered, unable to concentrate anymore. She was excited beyond belief and frightened at the same time. - But… why?.. - she gasped as the claws pierced her chest: cold numbness began to spread through her body, coursing in her veins until she was unable to speak. But her eyes remained fearless: if their Guardian demanded a sacrifice, she was willing and honored to be one. She would be strong for him, even if her soul was to be devoured. That would make him strong enough to protect everyone. That would satisfy his hunger, sparing everyne else of his wrath. She was at peace with Death ever since she’d had every chance to dissolve into nothing.

At that point Celine opened her eyes, but the blue eye stayed. Right there above her was the real Darkrai!

She did nothing else but pull the blanket over the chest of her plain but quite revealing nightshirt. She didn’t even breathe. The phantom hovered in almost horisontal position, his reaper-cloth wings shifting and swirling in a nonexistent, otherworldly wind. Then in a blink of an eye he dove into the darkness of the floor, and after a few moments of shadowy struggle - the shadows on the wall shifted in a fast and unnatural way - he retrieved Pitch, hanging pitifully by the collar in the Pokemon’s massive arm.

- He gave you nightmare, not I, - Darkrai’s voice boomed in the silent room.

- He had his reasons, - Celine replied in a low, humble voice, sitting up against her bedpost. - I did ill to him today. Sorry, - she added, as if it was her who just tormented Pitch with nightmares, and not the other way. - You won’t see that amulet ever again, I promise! - she hurried to slip the eye pendant under her shirt, almost flashing her breasts while doing it, though the dark entities were uninterested. Pitch seemed to relax a little after the “lunar eye” stopped gazing at him.

- Please, Darkrai, let him go. He didn’t frighten me too much anyway… - It wasn’t very pleasant for Pitch to hear, and being dropped on the floor was even less of a pleasant thing, spirit or not.

- I saw your dream, - Darkrai said after a pause, while Pitch scrambled up to sit on the farthest corner of the bed. - The last part… I would never do that. The outsider was lying!

- I know, Darkrai, - Celine replied mildly, reaching for her shirt that hung on the nearby chair to slip it on her shoulders. - He was bearing a grudge after my careless feat with the Lunar Wing - you, of all creatures, have to understand that. What he did was bring out my own fears - which I perfectly know myself, thank you very much, - she addressed Pitch in a mock reproach. There wasn’t a trace of fear on her face - quite the contrary, her eyes were so lively they almost shone. Especially after she donned her glasses to have a closer look at Darkrai, who stood by her bed on his slender shadow legs, while his ghostly tail billowed in the slight breeze from the open window.

- You are afraid of me? - varying the tone of his voice wasn’t Darkrai strongest point, so it sounded like a statement - with a hint of unrest.

- No, - Celine replied quickly and then hesitated. - I was afraid that… you wouldn’t like me. With my amulet and me curing nightmares and all. It is your way of feeding, after all…

- Mine too, - Pitch grumbled, forgotten by all. Surprisingly, Celine cast him a smile before turning back to her dearest nightmare beast. Yes, the beauty and the beast indeed, Pitch sneered silently. Everyone loved beasts these days: even that stupid kanga-rabbit had more attention than he deserved! And people here were simply crazy about their magical animals. If only he had enough power to create actual Night Mares or turn into a shadow monster himself… Then he would give Darkrai a proper battle and bend him to his will!

- I like you, - Darkrai said simply.

Celine looked as if she wanted to give Darkrai the tightest hug in all history of hugs, if only he didn’t have that collar of big and sharp-looking spikes. No matter how old she was, twenty-six to be precise, she was almost shaking with excitement like a little girl. The psychic held her hand out to Darkrai, and he accepted it carefully, trying not to harm the delicate human skin with his sharp obsidian claws. Immidiately her other hand followed, caressing Darkrai’s with the tenderness he had never known. Not even from Alice, who now had a child with Tonio, dedicating all her life to the clueless human hatchling. Darkrai never understood why every creature was so eager to hatch some offspring of their own. Despite having a masculine voice and appearance, the phantom was a genderless being with no instincts of procreation.

- Do you want to rest here? - Celine asked, pulling at his hand invitingly while moving to the other side of the bed to make room for him. With a little hesitation Darkrai retracted his legs and hovered above the bed, as if seeking for a comfortable spot, before lowering himself onto the side, his tail curled as if he was a very big cat. He leaned his head against the bedpost, but it did not stay there for long. Moving closer to him, Celine placed her arm under his neck, careful not to be hurt by the spikes - and after a bit of shifting his head was resting comfortably on her chest. Celine’s hands took pure delight in stroking Darkrai’s thick white mane - it felt like it was made of silk and mist. Eventually she brushed his unruly forelock aside to look into both of his eyes at once: those big, dreamy sapphires shining gently with gratitude and devotion.

Unnoticed by both, Pitch seeped into the darkness under the bed. He crept away through the deepest shadows behind the furniture, only stopping between the dresser and the wall to cast a disapproving glance at the treacherous “beauty” with her hidden Lunar amulet and her huge, brutal “beast”. After that long and bitter moment he oozed out the window and into the street like the liquid shadow he was.

He would never admit, even to himself, that he did feel jealous. A lot. And also completely defeated: even a delicate girl resisted his nightmares! He felt like a mere shadow that could not even exist by itself: shadows were always cast by something solid, something more important than himself. In his better moods he remembered that darkness was always there: it was primary to light, which was fleeting and mortal, while darkness was eternal. But what Pitch felt now could not even be described as a mood: it was a state so powerless and crushed that he was unable to rise from the shadows even if he cared to. In this utter and complete apathy his only way to continue his existence was to sink into a deep black slumber under the humid blanket of soil.

What Pitch didn’t know was that his absence was noticed soon enough. Perhaps he wouldn’t like to know it, as holding a grudge was his preferred state of mind, but the “treacherous beauty” asked Darkrai not to be so severe with the “outsider” and to watch over him. The Pokemon was doing exactly that, coming to her “rescue” from Pitch-induced nightmares, but he didn’t say anything. Darkrai was in a state of blissful trance that lasted for the rest of the night. Celine dozed off pretty soon, but no sooner that she’d made a little self-suggestion that she would not see any nightmares. And she didn’t.