Beware The Jabberwock.

[Deleted]

SPOILER: Click to show

Name: Chance
Species: Lotad
Gender: Male
Ability: Swift Swim
Level: 5
Friendship: 5
Moveset: Astonish, Growl, Absorb
Nature: Something of a loner with a nervous disposition, Chance cuts a rather solitary figure. He's gloomy, rarely speaks and the idea of being in a crowd makes him shake. He also has some rather serious confidence issues after having spent so long in the lab and often lets others walk all over him.
Met: Lab @ lvl 5

Name: Charlie
Species: Shiny Phantump
Gender: Male
Ability: Natural Cure
Level: 5
Friendship: 5
Moves: Tackle, Confuse Ray, Astonish
Nature: Once a little boy who got lost in the Forest of Strangling Sprigs, Charlie wandered the forest looking for a way out and unfortunately never did. His spirit possessed a tree stump and continued to search the forest. Charlie was only 7 when he passed and has retained much of his personality and memories from when he was alive, along with his ability to read and write. He is rather sweet and innocent, with a very playful streak. But he is still a child and often hides behind Nora, who he thinks looks a little bit like his older sister.
Met: Buteston Festival of Death @ lvl 5

Nora growled as she shoved another tree branch away from her face. She wasn't used to nature. The only trees she had ever come across were the ones that decorated the Lumiose streets: meticulously maintained with not a single leaf out of place. These were proper trees, wild trees if trees can be described as such. In the sky above the moon shone brightly, yet it didn't seem to light her path. She was lucky she had Charlie to guide her. Without the little ghost tugging at her sleeve, leading her the way, Nora figured she would be lost by now. She was on an unexpected witch hunt. People had been telling ghost stories in Buteston, one about a witch had caught her attention. 

Charlie was a curious creature. Nora found herself somewhat able to communicate. Not in words or sentences, not even in thoughts. But in feelings. She just... knew. A sudden feeling of dread, choosing one path over another, even Charlie's name. The name had just floated out of her subconscious and it felt right. She assumed it was because he was a ghost, psychic types are telepathic or so they say. But the story of the witch caught Charlie's attention and Nora found herself longing to go into the woods. Charlie seemed to know it well and his guidance was welcome.

As the forest thinned out, Nora found herself staring up at a gothic mansion, it looked old but the gate seemed to be open when Nora gently pushed at it. Charlie hovered in front of Nora, beckoning her towards the front door. As she made her way up the path, Nora thought about the little she knew about this witch. Nora may have been ambitious but would she really go to such extremes? Time would tell. Nora delicately took the box of blood cakes she had brought with her out of her bag; she had long since realized that you could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Why someone would want a large number of flies, Nora didn't know, but to each their own.

Nora gently griped the box in her mouth to leave her hand free, and reached out for the door and grasped firmly onto the handle. But instead of just walking straight inside, she knocked firmly three times. Removing the box from her mouth, she called out, "Hello? Anyone home?" Nora paused, thinking for a moment. "I brought you some cake." Charlie rolled his eyes and floated closer to the door. "You can float on in if you want but I'm not breaking and entering into someone's house. Even if the door is open. The last time I did that I saw old Mrs Beaumont naked. I had nightmares for weeks." Nora shuddered. And so, the pair waited outside, wondering if someone would actually answer their knocking.

[ZOM]

The mansion loomed over its two visitors, silently judging, scrutinizing, watching. This place did not give off a welcoming aura, but if Nora truly wished to see the witch of Witchhill she would have to endure the eerie atmosphere. A minute ticked by, then two. Perhaps no one was home? Perhaps Nora could just walk right on in...?

Then, suddenly, the doors swung open seemingly on their own. "You may enter," echoed a deep, raspy voice from within. The sound had no apparent source, as if it came from every direction at once. Could the house itself be capable of speaking? Upon entering the foyer Nora would see no one, not a living soul, though the feeling of a million eyes leering down persisted. On the outside, the mansion looked all but abandoned, with ivy growing up its face, weeds overrunning the lawn, and rust tinting the black metal fence spokes bloody. Inside, however, everything was astonishingly well-kept, suggesting that Witchhill was occupied after all. There were plenty of decorations, from vases and statues on pillars to oil paintings with eyes that followed Nora's every move. Dark, plush sofas with gnarled claw feet sat in either corner of the room, and along the wall across from the entrance were steps leading up to the second level and one set of double-doors in the very center of the room, directly beneath an expensive-looking chandelier that dangled almost precariously from the ceiling. Though the foyer was dark at first, the chandelier spontaneously lit, the candles upon it now crackling with blue flames.

"Come upstairs," said the voice again. Once more its resonance made it impossible to identify its source, but it rang loud and clear enough to easily understand. "And go right, not left. There will be an open door." Upstairs, the open door led to a pitch-black room. Skittering around the doorframe and dangling from the ceiling in the hall were numerous Spinarak, chattering and hissing.

[Deleted]

As the minutes ticked by, Nora looked over the building. She had been surrounded by big buildings her whole life and as far as she was concerned, this one was no different. It was older than the ones in Lumiose City, and not many of the buildings she had known were occupied by witches but she wouldn’t be swayed by rumour and outward appearances. Eventually though, she looked to Charlie and shrugged her shoulders. She had no intention of waiting till sunrise. Turning to make her way back down the path.


She had only taken a couple of steps when she heard the doors open. She slowly turned on her heel, peering into the house. When the voice called out, Charlie swiftly bobbed up and down in the air before floating inside, quickly followed by Nora. Nora’s eyes flickered around the room suspiciously, looking for the owner of the voice but she found none. She didn’t spot any microphones or badly hidden speakers either, admittedly that didn’t seem to justify jumping to supernatural conclusions but for once Nora was willing to suspend her disbelief. Just this once.


“Close the door would you Charlie? We wouldn’t want to let in a draft.” Nora hissed to her ghostly companion as she explored the room. It was an odd thing to pop into her head, but she was a guest in someone’s home and she wouldn’t want to be called rude. Her head whipped upwards as the room was suddenly illuminated. She was almost mystified by the blue flames but the slamming shut of the front door brought her back to her senses. Although the voice had told her to go upstairs, Nora decided to dawdle for a moment and moved closer to the paintings. She did not know the names of them, nor did she know the artists. She half-expected one of them to reach out of the frame and pull her inside. “I think it would be best to stay vigilant Charlie.” She whispered as she backed away from the paintings, her eyes not leaving theirs until her hand was firmly on the stair bannister.


As Nora scurried up the stairs, she went over what the voice had said. Go right, not left, she thought. Do I follow what the disembodied voice tells me to do, bearing in mind that I’m somewhat certain that it’s spying on me via mystical forces. Or do I go the other way… Why am I even asking myself this? It would be a stupid lapse in my judgement. Nora shook her head with a sigh as she turned right, heading towards the open door. While she appeared confident in herself, her hands were clutching the blood cake box like it was a sugary safety blanket. Nora raised an eyebrow at just how dark the room beyond was. “Like hell I’m just walking in there blind. There could be a bear trap on the floor…” Nora eyed the door for a moment before reaching into her bag. “Let me see if I have flashlight or something.”

[ZOM]

Conveniently, though, the need for flashlights quickly became nonexistent. A bulb in the center of the ceiling flickered to life, and at the doorway stood a Braixen with its paw at the light switch. It peered up at Nora with vaguely curious, but mostly scrutinizing, eyes, and its ears twitched, then swiveled at the sound of a voice from inside the room. "Thank you, Bidd. Come in, little guest. Let us see what you have brought for me." The voice was the same as the one that had echoed through the foyer, only quieter. Bidd smiled and stood aside so that Nora could pass.

Seated cross-legged in the center of the room was a woman. She was tall and appeared quite strong in body, with broad shoulders and toned arms, though her skin was a ghostly pale and her teased and frazzled mane of hair was ashen brown. In sharp contrast with the pallor of her body, her lips were painted ruby red, and the sleeveless dress she wore was black as pitch. It was strangely designed in that it was cut conservatively around the neckline and chest, but opened up to reveal the entirety of her stomach and the gaping mouth there, salivating as the woman looked up to stare at Nora and Charlie. Only one pupil leered at them, red and rimmed by yellow, though it floated between the two otherwise empty black sockets at a lazy pace.

"What is your name, child?"

The room itself was rather cluttered with all manner of things, yet the dim lighting made it difficult to see exactly what each jar and bottle and pot contained even if it would have been otherwise visible without yanking off lids and caps. Each container was labeled, though, and the contents of some poked out of their jars. Petrified Zubat wings in a mason jar, bones and claws, eyeballs of assorted creatures, and... leeks? Jam? Shelves upon shelves lined every wall, and where the witch sat -- if Nora was to believe that she was indeed a witch -- was the only open walking space in the room. A table along the wall to Nora's left was piled high with strange herbs and "ingredients," arranged haphazardly next to a small black pot filled with simmering liquid. It did not appear that the witch had been busy with any of that mess when Nora arrived, though. She looked quite comfortable seated on the floor, and she was even barefoot.