#bro is going THROUGH it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

waywardstation · 27 days ago

Text

Don't Fall Asleep

Chapter 1

Something has started disrupting Ingo in the middle of the night and waking him up, and it seems like it's getting progressively more dangerous with each visit. Something about the eerie occurrences are not adding up, and Ingo is growing more and more exhausted as time goes on. Akari wants to help find out what's haunting him and stop it before something serious happens to him.

This has been an interesting fic to write. Two times now I've tried to write a fic based on a certain prompt, but by the end it's changed so much it's a different fic altogether. This fic is the result of my second attempt to finish the original. Perhaps one day I'll finish it haha, but I hope you enjoy this one! Seems fitting for Halloween ^^

Be aware near the end of this chapter, there is a scene of fabricated fatal injury.

OR read on AO3!

Enjoy!

—————

It shouldn’t be this cold.

Ingo’s first thought murmured in his head, barely registered over the loud bang that jolted him from sleep. He found himself looking up through the darkness and at the ceiling of his tent — the thick fabric above was moving, dim except for a blur of ambient light that stretched up the wall and reached across it.

Something was howling. And still slamming.

Rubbing the frost from his heavy eyes, Ingo turned onto his back and sat up to properly assess the room.

It was impossible not to immediately notice that the doors to his tent were open and loose, wind swinging them back into the walls repeatedly. And the warm light from his now-opened furnace had been snuffed out, replaced with a cold, dim glare from the snowstorm raging outside. Snow was piled at the entrance and scattered across the floor, as well as sprinkled across his own bed and belongings.

How did that happen?

Shivering, Ingo pulled back his blankets and left its waning warmth to approach the entrance, picking Gliscor’s Pokéball off his table on the way over. Steadying the doors with his hands, he used one of his feet to shove most of the snowpile back out through the door. When that was taken care of, he took a cautious glance outside, squinting into the hazy storm.

Clan members had told him that the Zoroark packs would grow more comfortable with approaching the settlement when the temperatures dropped to even more unforgiving temperatures, and the nights grew longer.

Was it already time for that? Had one of them tried to get into his room? Had it actually entered and then left?

He didn’t think he would have been left unharmed if one had. And his supplies surely wouldn’t have been left alone either.

Perhaps a curious Zorua, then? But Zorua couldn’t reach up high enough to open the tent doors… unless he hadn’t truly secured the locks when he went to bed, perhaps.

Ingo looked over his shoulder into the dark room to check if the assumed intruder was still here somehow, pressed into a corner or hunched under his bed frame. But there was nothing in the darkness, of course. No sharp eyes glowing from the corners, no ominous forms blending in with the furniture. Not even any snowy footprints smeared on the floorboards.

Turning back to face the flurry rushing outside the doorway one last time, Ingo stared into the spaces between the snowfall. No forms, no figures, nothing. He could barely even see the trees through the flurry, the white-dusted forms bending and swaying with the gale.

Something about it was unnerving.

But the intruder was long gone now, if it had even been here in the first place.

Ingo shut the door, one last rush of cold pushing through as the howling wind was muffled, and the ambient light was swallowed by darkness. Locking it securely, he pulled on the doors to double-check this time. The man sighed, a cloud of breath fading into the air. The wind was no longer tormenting him, but it was still freezing inside. Too cold to sleep comfortably.

Moving towards the frozen furnace, Ingo set Gliscor’s Pokéball back with the rest on the table before crouching down. The fire inside had gone out completely, leaving a dark hollow in its place.

Something had to have done that, surely. The wind may have been able to extinguish it, but it would not have been able to swing open the locked hatch.

Reaching out for his wood supply tucked into a low shelf nearby, Ingo placed three more logs into the furnace and sparked a small flame. It quickly illuminated the insides with a warm orange as it steadily began flickering across the logs, and Ingo shut the furnace door before any embers could jump out.

The only thing left to do was get back into bed and wait for the room to heat back up. Ingo trudged across the wooden floorboards and pulled back his somewhat-warm sheets to curl up under them.

With his head sinking into his pillows, Ingo let out an exasperated sigh as he tried to make himself comfortable under the covers. His heavy eyes scanned the room one last time — nothing. No movement, no sounds, and no wind, save for the storm now muffled outside. There was only the soft, swelling glow of the furnace working hard to thaw the freeze that had settled.

Ingo relented to the heaviness and closed his eyes, but deep down, he expected he probably wouldn't be falling back asleep. It had always been difficult for him to do so once he was roused.

And the thought that someone or something had been in his room while he was asleep was admittedly unnerving.

So with eyes closed, he listened to the snowstorm rushing outside, buried under his insulated blankets in a haze as the hours melted together, until a bleak daybreak began to brighten his tent’s canvas. It was difficult to get out of bed and travel down to Jubilife Village’s training grounds that day, he didn’t feel well-rested at all.

—————

Six nights later, Ingo once again found himself blinking into the darkness, shivering under his blankets like he’d been sleeping in deep cold for half an hour.

Another bang of the door against the wall, and more howling of the wind rushed in to greet him.

More snow scattered across the floor and his belongings.

Ingo sat up quicker this time, eyes scanning the room. His heart jolted when his gaze met with a dark silhouette hunched over the end of his bed, large yellow eyes staring at him.

The eyes blinked and the head tilted. What had once startled Ingo now put him at ease.

“Gliscor,” Even amongst the wind and snow rushing inside, Ingo sunk back into his blankets with a sigh of relief. His ace must have exited his Pokéball and chased off whatever had entered his room. “You’re keeping watch, aren’t you?”

The eyes blinked again, and slowly Gliscor reached upwards to hang from the rafters by his tail, hunching back into the darkness where he felt comfortable. The only sounds made were the creaking of his carapace, and his soft chittering.

Once again, Ingo removed himself from his bed, shoved out all the snow at the entrance (and took another peek outside, to of course find nothing. The swaying tree line in the distance still caught his gaze for more than a moment, though), and re-lit his furnace — much more swiftly this time, knowing Gliscor was there and at ease. It meant he at least had the comfort of knowing no wild beast was hiding in his room with him this time.

“Did you see anything out there?” Ingo spoke aloud into the room as he locked the doors and checked their security.

“Scorrr,” Connecting eyes, Gliscor chittered reluctantly. Perhaps he hadn’t seen what it was either.

“That is alright, I appreciate the vigilance all the same.” Ingo yawned as he buried himself back under the warm blankets, looking up above him at the rafters. Gliscor stared back down and chittered, large eyes now catching the furnace’s dim flicker. Ingo could feel his companion’s gaze linger on the back of his head, before he heard his carapace creak as he shifted to watch the door. “Goodnight, Gliscor.”

He was probably going to have to bring this semi-nightly occurrence up at the Pearl Clan’s next morning meeting, he thought.

Eventually the sun rose up over the snowy mountains after another haze of hours went by. Ingo noticed somewhere during that time Gliscor must have returned to his ball, as the room was empty when he finally moved to leave his bed, groggy and exhausted.

—————

Five nights later, Ingo had once again awoken to the same exact scene. A frozen, scattered room that had been opened up to the harsh cold, and a confused Gliscor crammed up above him in the rafters, tail hanging down and wide eyes watching over him.

He got up and swept the snow out once again, but something felt different this time.

“Do you sense anything out there tonight?” Ingo turned up to his companion, scrunched up under his own wings in the rafters. Gliscor didn’t move from where he sat, but his large yellow eyes were focused intently out the door.

Ingo followed Gliscor’s gaze out into the snowstorm. Like every other night, the tree line could barely be seen, bending with the rushing snow. Ingo squinted, trying to see them better, but he quickly decided to stop — staring too long was warping one of the closer trees to look like, well… something was standing there.

It sent dread through him, but no, it was just a tall, thin tree, dark against the snowstorm. He was starting to see things.

Rubbing his eyes as he locked the door, Ingo relit his furnace, climbed back into his now-cold bed, and sighed.

“Goodnight, Gliscor.” “Gliii,”

Buried under his blankets, Ingo’s gaze was lazily drawn to the small window openings in his door. He watched the snow rush by behind them, blurred and long and wispy. He closed his eyes, accepting this was going to be another sleepless night that dragged on until sunrise.

He really needed to bring this up again at their next morning meeting. It was concerning that it felt like every single night this happened was just the exact same night, repeating itself.

Maybe they needed a nightwatch. Some extra eyes around the settlement’s perimeter at night, to keep scavengers at bay. Maybe he’d suggest that tomorrow.

—————

Four nights later, Ingo did not wake up to the expected sight of his ceiling.

He awoke to the sideways expanse of dark snow and distant mountains, with the wind and snow screaming in his ears. Cold bit deep into muscles and bare skin where it had seeped into his clothes and dragged against his face.

Dragged.

He was being pulled–

The tug of his leg, void of feeling but aware of the strain, became obvious once it was suddenly dropped in the snow like deadweight. Ingo choked on a cloud of frozen breath and scrambled to push himself upright with numb limbs.

He was in the middle of the snowstorm, frigid wind lashing him.

Hands went to his waist for Pokéballs that weren't there. Looking around frantically to both gain his bearings and try to spot his kidnapper, Ingo spotted his distant tent obscured by sheets of slurry. The doors were open to the darkness inside, and a trench of disrupted snow trailing behind him led all the way back to it.

Something had dragged him out here. And while that something seemed to now be long gone, it had managed to pull him all the way out of his tent, through the settlement, and a good distance into the howling wastes.

Where was the night watch? There was absolutely no one out here, as far as he could see. How had no one seen this happening? He couldn’t even see any telltale signs of them in the distance. No lantern lights or anything.

Ingo stumbled to his frozen feet and quickly made his way back to the open doors on shaky legs, teeth chattering and mind thoroughly rattled. Entering his snow-scattered room, he noticed it was quiet in a way it hadn’t been the last few nights.

There was no dark shape up in the rafters, no yellow eyes watching him from open spaces between furniture. And there hadn’t been outside, either.

Gliscor was not out this time. Had this thing even bested his own Pokémon with its stealth?

It unnerved him that whatever had done this had gotten as far as it had undetected. Had it adapted, learning it had to be sneakier?

He looked out through the door before shutting it quickly. There was nothing to be seen out there, and still no flickering lights from anyone keeping watch — there never was anything, but he felt like something was still out there.

This is no longer safe, Ingo thought, new fire flaring in his furnace as he threw his heavy pile of blankets back over himself, having added four more to the pile. His Pokéballs had now been moved beneath his pillow rather than the bedside table, and he released Gliscor. This time, he kept his companion with him on his bed, his long heavy wings draped over like another blanket.

Settling back under his covers once more, Ingo’s side swelled before he released a massive, exhausted sigh through his nose. This was getting to be ridiculous, what was going on? If it wasn’t Zoroark season at the start of all this, it had to be now. He was going to have to bring this up again in the next meeting, because it was not being taken seriously enough. But no one else was reporting occurrences like this. Was it only bothering him? He didn’t–

Ingo’s thoughts halted as his eyes adjusted to the dark. In the shadowed corner of the room and behind one of his cabinets, there was a single long tendril, stark against the darkness. Wispy and white, it hung in the air, suspended as if it was underwater.

That hadn’t been there before.

Something about the sight made Ingo’s chest flutter, sick. What was–?

He didn’t know what happened next, as suddenly he was blinking exhaustion from his heavy eyes. It was morning, Gliscor was gone, and his blankets had been tossed about, now strewn around the bed and floor rather than piled on top to insulate him; he found himself to be freezing, and it felt like he had been for some time.

Had he nodded off and somehow slept through the rest of the night without any blankets on him? That wasn’t good.

His eyes ached, heavy with exhaustion — he sure felt like he didn’t sleep well. Groaning, he pulled himself out of bed while he wrapped one of his thickest blankets around himself. He had to warm himself up by his furnace a little before getting ready for the day.

He was intent on reporting this at the morning meeting — how had he been allowed to be dragged that far out unnoticed? They had told him they’d have people stationed outside, on the lookout for any Zoroark. If this had happened to him, it could happen to anyone.

Maybe he should go back to sleeping at his other place tucked away in the highlands. He stayed in the settlement around winter by choice, but maybe it would be safer to leave. Maybe this thing would stop tormenting him then.

Ingo threw a glance over at his cabinet one more time.

As expected, the wisp was gone, like it had never been there in the first place. But his dread was not. It settled in his chest as he hunched in front of his furnace.

—————

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Ah, good afternoon, Miss Akari… my cab could be in better shape, I admit.” Ingo sighed while rubbing at his eyes with the heel of a hand, as if the act itself was exasperating. His words sounded clogged. “My sleep schedule has been somewhat derailed lately.”

Akari moved to sit down on the bench next to Ingo, though she kept her distance, sitting on the other end. Rather than proudly standing at his post before the training grounds’ battlefield, he had secluded himself back against one of its walls. With his posture even more slouched than usual, he was bundled with extra layers, his stuffy nose practically in a steaming cup of tea.

While the days had been growing colder, Ingo had easily dealt with much worse than this. And he never opted to sit down while at the training grounds unless he absolutely had to.

“Sounds like you’ve got a cold. Do you need anything?”

“No no, I can assure you I am not ill, do not worry.” Ingo sniffed. He was not oblivious to the way she was leaning away from him, clearly wary. “There was simply a mishap last night.”

“Oh.” Only then did Akari scooch closer to him – she was growing curious now, anyway. “Well, what happened?”

Ingo sniffed again. He didn’t even know where to start, really. “It seems that there is a Pokémon that continues to enter my home every few nights while I am asleep, but I cannot fathom why. It never steals any supplies, nor does it damage anything. And while it hasn’t… explicitly harmed me yet, I’m afraid the possibility is rising. Initially I brushed it off, but I am concerned that doing so has only intensified things. It is making sleep difficult.”

“Hmm.” Akari began to gently swing her legs on the bench, bumping her heels against the dirt. “Is it a Zoroark? It’s nothing you haven’t handled before.”

“Possibly, though it seems rather unlikely at this point.”

Ingo thought back on that morning's meeting with some regret. He supposed he had embarrassed himself by asking why he had been allowed to be dragged out all the way into the wastes in the middle of the night, and why nightwatch seemed to be completely absent, having been nowhere to be seen throughout the whole incident.

Other members had responded back that actually nightwatch had been active last night. They had people stationed around the settlement last night, and none of them had ever seen anything enter his home or drag him out. No one had seen him running back either.

He had been in his tent the entire night, according to them.

After the meeting, one of the clan’s elders had taken him aside. He told him that they were only taking his words seriously without any proof of incident, setting up a nightwatch based on his word alone because he was a respected warden. But if it was all a false alarm — bad dreams, or sleepwalking, perhaps — then he best try not to embarrass himself in front of the whole clan with such confidence.

Ingo’s frown pulled thinking about it. He felt it best not to share any of that with Akari.

“A Zorua, then?”

“Afraid not.” Ignoring the fact that he doubted it could have even opened the front doors, a Zorua certainly could not drag him that far out of his own tent by his leg.

“Misdreavus?”

“No,” A delayed but confident answer; not once had he been woken by any child-like screams that the species were well known for.

“Um, Haunter?”

“I’d… say not.” That one was more difficult, but ultimately, it wouldn't have needed to open his doors to enter. Right?

“What about Froslass?”

“Apologies, but I don’t believe any of these quite fit the identity of my intruder.”

“Well, what if it’s not even a Pokémon then?”

“I’d have to say I doubt that,” But a part of him briefly considered it.

Ingo knew what Akari was referring to. About the solitary wisps she’d come upon, wandering through the wilds in isolation after the sun had set. About the ghost stories the clans’ kids told each other, concerning souls of the long-dead settlement to the south roaming into their village from the wastes. Wanting to inhabit their homes as if they were their own.

Pokémon, he could deal with. He knew Pokémon. But the supernatural, he wasn’t so sure about.

“How can you be sure? Have you even seen what it looks like?” The teen continued to poke at the subject.

“It only arrives when I am asleep, and has always departed by the time I wake up. And I cannot fight off sleep indefinitely, Miss Akari.” Even now, the thought of getting quality rest made his muscles ache for it.

“Yeah, but I can!” Akari reconsidered her words when Ingo threw her a ‘please do not try that’ look. “I mean, I can do it in your place – stay awake when you won’t! I can stay with you tonight; I’ll keep watch when you go to sleep, so when this intruder comes in, I’ll be there to catch it!” She seemed to be making herself more excited over the idea as she went on. “We can make it a sleepover!”

“While I do appreciate the offer Miss Akari, under these circumstances I must decline.” Ingo was not keen on the possibility of getting the teen involved with this… thing, whatever it was. Her generally superficial reception to it told him she might not have realized just how alarming this situation was, either. “Besides, the Pearl Clan has recently decided to begin patrolling the settlements’ borders after nightfall. And I’ve decided to keep my own Pokémon out with me for now. I am certain this mystery intruder will not enter so effortlessly anymore.”

“Oh come ooooon,” Set on persuading him, Akari began chanting. “Sleep o-ver. Sleep o-ver. Sleep o-ver!”

“How about I let you know if I believe your services are required.” He compromised, taking another sip of his tea.

“Ohhh,” Akari knew what that meant, but she couldn’t force it, she supposed. She kicked at the dirt again, unsatisfied but accepting. “Fine.”

Ingo took another sip from his tea and dipped his head forward. He did not feel ready for the day.

—————

Three nights later. Ingo laid there as he blinked awake, finding himself staring at the ceiling once again. The wind was howling and open doors were slamming against the wall. Just as expected.

He turned onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows, eyes heavy and mind foggy. The furnace was out once again, and snow was piled at the door, just like it always was.

As he swung his legs over the side of the bed and began to cross the cold floors, Ingo realized with some discontent that the novel fear of the situation had begun to fade somewhat – it felt more like concerned caution now, or participating in a routine. Symptoms of someone who was growing too comfortable with the circumstances, and that made Ingo… uncomfortable.

Maybe it was because he had Gliscor out with him now, sleeping up above him from the rafters.

Or maybe it was just because a few too many nights of bad sleep had worn out the senses. He didn’t know.

The doors were closed and locked once again, and Ingo turned, yawning as he approached the furnace to light it. Crouching down, he reached for the firewood and sparked a flame, before shutting the small door and securing the latch.

“Is it all clear, Gliscor?” Ingo asked out loud as he watched the flame flicker, making sure it would grow brighter instead of smolder. His companion had been rather quiet; had he even noticed if anything had come in?

There was no answer, however. Was Gliscor asleep? As a nocturnal Pokémon, Ingo would have thought he would have been very alert right now–

“Gliscor?” Ingo tried again. He looked up from where he was crouching to search for his companion, but fell back onto the floor instead.

Gliscor was not here. Not in the rafters, not by the bed, nowhere at all.

Instead, there was something else. It almost blended in entirely with the darkness that accumulated back there, but…

Two legs.

Two long, dark legs, thin as could be, back against the wall and right next to his headboard. A heart-stopping visual all on its own, made worse as Ingo’s eyes followed them all the way up into the rafters above. He couldn’t see where they ended, being lost to the darkness.

But sticking out of that darkness to hang down were the same wispy white tendrils, suspended like cobwebs in the air. Like hair.

That same white wisp from last time.

It was like whatever was standing there was bent over backwards just to fit under the roof.

Whatever it was… It was in his room. It was next to his bed. It had been standing above him.

A bolt of terror struck him, but before he could say or do anything, a loud crack exploded from behind. A tremor, then snow burst into the air and dim light intruded through the sudden gaping hole in the room that used to be the tent’s entrance — Ingo found himself on the floor with half of his room missing, as if the wall had been ripped off.

What-?

His instincts told him to look back, to not let whatever was by his bedside out of sight. A quick look over his shoulder though, and there was nothing there. It was gone, just an empty wall now in its place. Ingo stared back out past the jagged boards and torn fabric of his open wall into the flurry, almost dazed as the static in his ears gave way to distant shouts, cracking wood, and enraged bellows amongst the wind.

Something was attacking the village.

Was it the… thing that he had just seen? Was it responsible for the hole in his wall?

Getting to his feet, Ingo took one look back at his wrecked room, exposed to the elements. Snow was piling up on the floor and furniture (some of which were now knocked over), and scraps of cloth and fabric were flapping in the wind. His belongings were strewn all about now.

But there were definitely no long, dark legs. It hadn’t hidden – nothing was peeking down from the now-crooked rafters. The sense of dread was still there, heavy in his chest, but it felt different. It was not from its presence anymore.

The screams and commotion were growing louder, now. He had to help – perhaps that is where Gliscor had gone too. Turning, Ingo hastily grabbed for his hat and tunic, pulling them on as he slipped into his shoes. Then a move to collect his Pokéballs, stuffing them into his tattered coat’s pockets as he pulled it off the hook from which it hung.

The snowstorm fully embraced him with its stinging cold as he stumbled out of the debris, rushing away from his tent and into the extensive blackness.

It was near impossible to see anything through the combination of heavy darkness and thick snowfall, but he could hear everything. He was surrounded by the sound of shouting and crashing, stomping and roaring, all distorted by the storm. Visceral and unrelenting, it sounded like a massacre.

Terror gripped at his heart – there were men, women, and children here who were not equipped to defend themselves from something like this, not in the middle of the night. If whatever had been in his room was going from home to home, attacking whoever was inside–

More screams somewhere ahead of him, and what sounded like wood splintering. Roaring.

“Hey!” Ingo squinted as the flurry continued to berate him, calling out to someone, anyone. The only answer was more screaming and crashing. It sounded like a home was being torn apart. Pulling his coat closed around himself, he hurried towards the sounds.

If he had his bearings correct, then Urb’s family’s home should have been up ahead.

Ingo’s ears suddenly rang, and the sounds died. Instead, a murky, unrecognizable shape came into view, revealing itself to be a pulverized Pearl Clan tent as he got closer.

“Urb!” Ingo called out for the clan member as he approached, kicking through the snow. The home was unsalvageable, wind howling as it rushed through the openings in the twisted boards that were bent and broken beyond repair. He stepped around the fragmented belongings scattered across the snow, hand ready to grab his Pokéballs from his coat pocket.

There was no answer, so he tried to call for the young man again. “ Urb!”

The wind blew over the last intact pot in the home as he stepped inside, shattering it at his feet and across the broken floorboards.

“Leuca!” He called next for Urb’s sister, then their elderly mother. “Platea!”

The fabric coverings tore as part of the structure weakened, the boards bending a little more. Ingo covered his head reflexively, but thankfully it held.

“Does anyone need assistance!” A sudden rush of the gale tried to drown him out with its howling.

No voices answered him. No calls, no groans, no nothing. Peeking into the wreckage, Ingo found no one.

He was alone here, standing in the wreckage of this abandoned home.

Ingo was too frazzled to decide if that was a good or bad thing.

Another boom cut through the silence to rattle him, with distant screams following behind. It was as if the source had moved, and was trying to taunt him… or lure him. Ingo’s chest felt sick — what was going on?

But he found he couldn’t ignore it; leaving the site behind, he ventured out into the sheets of flurry again. And again, he was surrounded by the terrifying sounds of a fight, of a vicious, heavy beast relentlessly going after his people. But he kept pushing forward towards the noise regardless. He couldn’t see, but the incline beneath his feet told him he was pressing uphill.

It was Vicus and Rema’s house that he came across next. They had children in there.

Even more destroyed than the last, only one wall of this tent was left standing, barely – the storm was pushing against it, intent on separating it from the last stretch of canvas and rope that kept it up. The rest of the home had fallen inward; he couldn’t have searched inside if he wanted to.

“Rema!” Ingo called out when he thought he spotted someone lying limp in the snow, but it was only one of their spare tunics, half-buried under the growing sheets of white. “Vicus?”

Another gust, and the storm finally ripped the wall free. The last remaining side of the home collapsed onto the rest of the debris with a crash, and the canvas was taken, lost to the wind.

“Humi? Asty?” Ingo reluctantly called out the names of their children, though at this point he felt he’d receive no answer either.

He stood before the fallen home, shivering in the cold until another explosive crash several yards away brought another bout of screaming and crashing. Ingo turned and ran into the snowstorm once again, trying to catch up with the storm-warped roaring.

Ingo heaved out clouds of air, pushing through the snow that was beginning to seep higher into his pant legs – it felt like it was getting deeper. Where was everyone? Where was the nightwatch that was supposed to be out, patrolling the settlement? Where was Gliscor? He should have ran into someone by now. It was like he was entirely alone out here in the settlement, like this thing was going house to house, snatching away everyone inside and destroying everything as it did so. But it hadn’t done it to him, he was still here. Why? The entity in his home – was this a Zoroark, relying on illusions? Was it trying to trick him specifically? That didn’t make sense. If this was some kind of strategy, this was the worst, most calculated attack he’d ever seen. What was going on? This wasn’t right—

Another abandoned house, smashed to rubble with no one in sight. Pressing past it and pushing uphill, he found even more wreckage, with the snow working hard to bury it entirely. The sounds of fighting were always just out of reach, he was never fast enough, and was always left to find the horrible aftermath.

“Irida! Gaeric!” Ingo threw out into the flurry. He was becoming desperate at this point; the further uphill he got, the closer he was getting to her, and to the center of the settlement. Everything was there–

His chest squeezed again, his limbs were starting to grow numb. This couldn’t be happening.

It was still impossible to see anything through the snowfall. If he hadn’t passed by all those homes, Ingo would have started to wonder if he somehow wandered out into the barren wastes instead. He raised his hand, ready to call out again, when a bellow reverberated through the air.

It was not somewhere far off this time. There was no distance to distort it.

This time, the call was unmistakable.

To his left, a hulking shape stood out in the storm. Ragged and sharp like the destroyed tents, it was different in that it was moving and breathing. Unkempt fur stuck up in tufts, rustling in the wind where it hadn’t frozen over in patches. Sharp Icicles jutted up in curves like frosted scythes, and bright eyes surrounded by black, sunken shadows were trained on him.

Ingo froze. Here was the one responsible for demolishing the entire village. One of his worst fears had come true – the behemoth had finally put in the effort and found a way to get itself across the river to reach their settlement, and had found him again. He was always sure on some level, Draugr would have wanted to finish him off – it was why he always took such care to avoid Avalugg’s legacy. Confusion and terror teamed up to stop Ingo in his tracks entirely.

Draugr’s challenging roar rumbled through Ingo’s rib cage. The hulking Mamoswine took a step forward, slow and purposeful. Ingo in turn took a step back, quick and unsure.

His shaking hand flew to the Pokéballs in his coat pockets, only to find they were… empty. He went to his other pocket, then his belt. They weren’t on him. Where were they? He had grabbed them, he knew he had. They were supposed to be in there–

It was just the two of them out here, and he had nowhere to go.

Draugr huffed, heavy and forceful, lowered his head, and charged.

His bellow was deeper than Ingo remembered, scarier, louder. His frame was bigger. His tusks were longer, sharper and splintered into more sharp points than he could count. His eyes were warped, and his once-heavy movements lacked their drag.

He was worse than Ingo had recalled in every way.

Ingo’s instincts screamed at him, yelling that he needed to get out of the way. Yet the snow held onto his legs when he tried, and he found he could not move. Not like how he wanted to. Maybe it was a reflex. Was he shutting down?

“ No, nono no-!” In a moment, he was shoved off his feet, pulled into the air by a deep, dreadful, familiar tug that reached under his ribcage. His heart skipped a beat before he was slammed back down, the snow at his back and blurry red eyes staring into his face.

A glance downward to see the tusk had been driven right into his abdomen. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew it had pushed right through, up and out through his back. He’d been gored, his entire side having been hole-punched to accommodate this pillar of ice.

His hands went to the tusk, red spreading over it. To hold on? To push on it? To pull it out? He didn’t know. It was already stuck, the frozen surface melded to everything warm inside. Just like last time. Why couldn’t he feel it? This was worse than before. He couldn’t survive this. Had anyone else fallen victim to this? Was this why he couldn’t find anyone? Draugr was bellowing again. He was going to push further. Oh, oh– his whole side, his guts, everything inside was going to fall out—

Thrashing in the snow, Ingo gasped, choking on a shout as if he’d been suffocating. He fell back onto his side, grabbing at his open gash to hold everything in.

He couldn’t—

Wait.

Dim sunlight stretched across the fresh, soft snow to reach him. He squinted at the cold, early-morning sunrise peeking out at him from over the purple mountain line.

A group of Chimecho and their kin were gently jingling far off somewhere, and the distant burbling of the river went on amongst the peaceful quiet. The open doors to his perfectly-intact tent creaked gently as it swayed behind him from where he laid, crumpled in the snow at his doorstep. His coat and hat hung just at the edge of view through the doorway; he’d never put them on.

Gliscor was standing there before him in the snow, terrified and looking like he wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. How long had his companion been there? How much had he seen?

Chest heaving, Ingo frantically felt beneath his underlayer, now twisted and filled with snow, and grasped at his side. Frozen fingers rubbed against scarred skin, shakily following it up his back as far as he could reach. Only after pulling the shirt up to visually confirm it for himself was he finally reassured.

It wasn’t open.

There was no blood staining his hands or saturating his clothes, nothing falling out that should be kept inside.

The old injury felt rough, yes, and a painful sensitivity lingered from the prolonged exposure to cold air, but it was healed over. It had been for a long time. Just like it was supposed to be.

He was fine.

It hadn’t been real. None of it had been real.

Ingo hung his head, heaving breaths stuttering out as he leaned forward in the snow. His heart was thundering beneath the hands that clutched at it.

“G-Gliscor–”

“Gliiii,” Gliscor whimpered as he reached out and carefully wrapped his claws around his trainer’s neck, hugging tight. Ingo hugged back.

The gentle strip of sunlight dulled the frigidity as he took in the early-morning ambience, slowly processing that he was safe at his open front door. He was still in the settlement, just outside his tent, and Draugr was nowhere in sight. Pearl Clan members were approaching him, saying things he didn’t hear. Gliscor was still fretting against his shoulder. Hot adrenaline receded back to the familiar weariness as the cold air froze his sweat. He didn’t realize tears had sprung up in anticipation of the pain.

All these nights… he had never left his tent, let alone his bed.

His doors had never been opened.

Gliscor had never been out with him.

He had never woken up.

These were all nightmares.

This whole time, he was experiencing horrible, vivid nightmares.

#ingo needs some good sleep #Akari wants to help but she also wants an excuse to have a sleepover and bother her uncle figure like she always does haha #bro is going through it #submas #ingo #warden ingo #subway boss ingo #subway master ingo #akari #pokemon akari #pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus #pokemon legends #PLA #Pokemon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic

83 notes · View notes