A/N: Hello everybodee! Can you believe it's already JUNE?! Man, that means the year is HALF-over—er, or for those of us who are eternal optimists, we STILL have a half-a-year left of fun! Heh-heh! No matter how you look at it, it is beach weather here in the South of the USA! I would like to dedicate this chapter to my brother, whose b'day is today! Hope you enjoy the show!
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Entanglement—Chapter 10— Unexpected Revelations
Ĉasista's eyes carefully studied the small device she had taken from the Ghost Hunter. She turned the Plasonar Modulator this way and that way, while sniffing or pawing at it on occasion. By now, all of her senses were clogged with all of the ghostly DNA that impregnated the device; and that was all that she cared about for the moment.
Every once in a while, she pushed or pulled at the little device; but it did nothing in spite of her coaxing. Though she was becoming frustrated that it was not as easy to use as the Skulker had implied, she did not chide herself. After all, she could still locate the Skulker's…ghost friend using her own powers. But then again, she wanted to be extremely accurate in her mode of approach or else a ghost as powerful as that one could stand a…slight chance at… escaping.
No, she would not even cater to the thought of that insignificant possibility! And she would not fail in her objective. So, stealth and accuracy were the keys for her to capture that strong ghost. And she held the key to both— if her robotic prey was right.
Suddenly, the slime in her mouth turned sour. Maybe that Skulker was lying! But then she paused. No. No ghost could lie to her when she had telepathic control over them. So, all she needed to do was to figure out how to use this silly device. After all, she had to admit to herself that if that powerful ghost was indeed still in the Fantomo-al-Esti Realm—that is, that which the human creatures called the 'Real World'—then her odds at failure would increase. And that was because the make-up of that distasteful realm was a very effective barrier to her powers in that it was able to distort her perception. True, she or her ĉerko could directly enter it; but the probability of entering it accurately in order to catch her prey off-guard was greatly diminished. Only when she had enough DNA from a ghost could her chance of reaching her victim with some surprise and precision, like she had in capturing the Ghost Hunter, be assured. Otherwise, she could have failed even in doing that when she had captured the robot ghost. But then again, the Skulker was not as powerful as the one she currently had her sights on; and so, her powers' being weaker had had no real significance in Skulker's capture.
Her thoughts suddenly shifted. Maybe she would not need this little device…If only she could lure that powerful ghost she wanted into the Ghost Zone, then his ghost DNA would be as traceable to her as the smell of bread baking in a ghost-to-be's home would be because she had enough of it.
She paused a moment longer before what could be called her face arched up in a hideous grin as she glanced down at the device in her forelegs. No more need for discussion about how to find him. At this point, it didn't matter that her current prey was in that other realm now that she had something that could track his whereabouts—thanks to the cyborg ghost!
She snickered to herself. It was the first time that one of her prey had inadvertently betrayed another ghost associated with it—especially such a significant one.
She tried a few more buttons on the Plasonar Modulator and her face skewed in disgruntlement when it stayed inert.
Still, she continued to fiddle with it as her thoughts focused back on the prey still filling her mind.
This particular prize was most intriguing to her because she could tell from his DNA that he wasn't purely ghostly. How could that be, she wondered, when she could not deny how powerful a ghost he was?…And why would such a strong creature be in the realm of the ghosts-to-be? She startled suddenly at her next thought. What if this ghost was hiding out in that realm because he was a coward? Then he would be no interest to her!…But then, her next thought soothed her. There was still an imbalance in the kosmon [1]. And she could not ignore that.
Suddenly, she frowned in slight confusion when it unexpectedly occurred to her: why was it that any sense she had had of the imbalance in the cosmos had been weak, and even sporadic—but only for the last few months? Perhaps it was of no concern. After all, some discrepancy in the kosmon was…tolerable, no matter how sour that thought was. Then, could she have been mistaken of its significance? No, Ĉasista was never mistaken!
There was no real explanation why this imbalance seemed much odder than it had when she had detected it so many other times before, because there was more to it than it seemed at this moment. That weak, intermittent sense was paradoxical in and of itself; and it had increased enough to demand her attention…and, more importantly, her action!
She grunted. No matter how many buttons she pushed, she could not get the Skulker's little contraption to work! She stopped and examined her method; and that was when she finally realized that her forefront claws weren't small or precise enough to activate this small device! But she needed for this to work…or she needed more of the ghost's DNA….
Though she would have rather to have used the Plasonar Modulator herself—since she now understood that she couldn't—she would have to persuade the male Ghost Hunter to activate and program it to do her bidding.
Tucking the small gizmo in a small crevice within her abdomen, she scrambled back to the area where she had left the still tied-up and poisoned cyborg ghost.
As she approached him, she suddenly looked hungrily at him, almost forgetting about the mission that now had captured her interest. Though the Skulker wouldn't be suitable for her more important plans, she was getting hungry! Still, she stopped short of sinking her fangs into where the tiny ghost would be. Rather, she stroked his robotic face and slowly coaxed him to rouse.
"Pet, pet," she cooed telepathically to his mind.
Though still very woozy from the poison, Skulker frowned reflexively at what he felt was an insult: he was nobody's pet!
Unexpectedly, that thought triggered more thoughts…thoughts about his distaste about his last encounter with Vlad. The older half-ghost might as well as have called him 'pet' for how he had treated him!...
His mind growled as his thoughts intensified, "I am nobody's pet!"
"'Nobody's pet', eh?" Ĉasista mentally commented to his mind after she had read his last thoughts. "And who is this fantomo [2] that you have such unpleasant thoughts about, pet?"
At first, Skulker paused at the unusual thought he thought he had just heard. Had that come from him? Why would he question himself 'who that someone was' when he knew that someone all too well? Still, the poison was enough to convince the hunter not to dwell on even that thought. Instead, he answered the question as if it had been his own, and it was full of bitterness:
"Humph! He is no fantomo! [3] He doesn't even deserve to be called a ghost! He's a half-ghost, a duone-fantomo [4]!"
"What is this? There is no such thing as a duone-fantomo!" Ĉasista mentally uttered in surprise.
She thought that the powerful friend of this Skulker was a ghost…not a, what, half-ghost? Preposterous! Was the cyborg ghost poisoned that much that he would accidentally make-up knowing such a creature? After all, she had never encountered or even heard of a 'half-ghost' in all of her existence, especially one so powerful whose DNA she had detected in the Skulker's aura! She could not be mistaken; but how could she explain this development?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Skulker's own meandering ones.
With a frown on his face, Skulker mentally uttered, "I know who Vlad Plasmius is and so why would I be surprised about that?"
"Because she has never encountered a duone-fantomo before. You must be more poisoned than she expected," the spirit mentally answered.
"She?" Skulker questioned in his mind. He paused and frowned, trying to gather his thoughts now that he knew that they had been wayward. As the clouds began to disperse, he focused and replied, "I was thinking of no 'she'…" He paused again. Now he was convinced that he had not been the only one who was speaking.
He struggled to open his eyes and when he knew he was having difficulty doing that, he growled mentally in threat, "Who dares to invade my mind?"
Though the spirit was impressed with this ghost's resistance and courage, she flippantly replied back only to his mind, "Ha-ha, such impudence, pet! Ĉasista owns your mind now that you are her prey!"
This time, Skulker purposely scrunched his eyes tighter in concentration. He was determined to block her mental assaults. But try as he might, he was still too much under the effects of her poison to do much of anything at the moment.
He grunted in frustration when he could mentally see her pulling out the Plasonar Modulator from within her and then showing it to him. And then he felt the pain ringing in his brain when she hammered back to his mind back in threat, "And now, worm, you will tell Ĉasista how to use this device!"
The spider cursed under her breath. Even though she knew that his race could rid themselves of her poison almost as quickly as she injected it, she could tell that she still had infected him with too much of it. So, at least for now, he wasn't able to fully comprehend her demands, much less blindly obey her.
Nevertheless, she had to get him to obey her!
Ĉasista then increased the pain in her prey's mind to mask her next thoughts. Secretly, she was a bit worried about the tracking device. In the end, had the Skulker lied about its ability to track ghosts? What about this powerful duone-fantomo, then? Would the little machine be useless in locating a creature such as him? She had to know! But then, she mentally frowned in irritation. This male within her power was also so very stubborn! Unfortunately, she had poisoned the Ghost Hunter to his limits right now. If she infected him more with her toxin to get this information, she could possibly destroy him—which was not in her plans yet...
The spider paused and her thoughts searched the cyborg ghost's disabled mind. He could have been lying about this device. After all, he had been able to resist her poison as effectively as the Angelus-alvus had been; and even now, his thoughts were resisting and making progress against her latest mental assault. Stubborn creature! True, he probably could resist her poison and mental powers only because of what race of ghosts she had already sensed Skulker had come from.… How clever…She paused again. But was he that clever?
She suddenly concentrated even more and probed Skulker's brain. And then, she smiled in near-triumph. Ah-ha! He was just as she remembered his race. And she would use that to her advantage now…
Meanwhile, the pain Skulker had felt riveting his brain moments before finally ridding himself of the spider spirit's venom began to subside rather quickly. Before he could wonder why, he was finally able to open his eyes at the sound of his captor's audible voice. He reflexively frowned in irritation as her words raked his nerves.
"S-So, pet," Ĉasista almost-sweetly uttered, "She sees that you are recovering more quickly than most prey. Indeed, you are a very special ghost. But, alas, you are even more unique than you will ever know because you are a ghost whose history is unknown to you!"
"I do not know what you are talking about!" Skulker objected before adding, "I am a hunter ghost and that is all that is important. Sentimentality is for weak fools!"
Ĉasista's face hitched into what could be called a half-smile and softly countered, "Indeed; but there is a…need she sensed in you and—"
"I have no needs that I cannot fulfill myself!" Skulker hotly interrupted. "And any history I might wish to reveal to others is for me to decide alone!"
Though his audacity infuriated the spirit even as it intrigued her, Ĉasista calmly replied, "Indeed once again, pet! But she would have you hear of a race of ghosts that you remind her of…"
"I am too old for fairy-tales," the Ghost Hunter insisted.
"Aw, but there is always a truth behind the tales of myth," she insisted back.
Truth…
The word suddenly stung the cyborg ghost and his robotic and real faces frowned. And just as sudden, he felt his core burn with a desire he didn't understand to know the truth.
Meanwhile, his reaction had not gone unnoticed by the spirit. She smiled only to herself as she added more softly, "Ĉasista can tell that the Skulker understands her meaning. You will listen, for you may find some truth in it."
"As if I have a choice," Skulker bantered back; though Ĉasista could tell by his remark that she had been right about the ghost.
"No, pet, you do not," she assured him, but she was not sincere. "But, perhaps, if you find her tale interesting…"
"And why would I?" Skulker dared to challenge.
The spider's patience was wearing awfully thin all of the sudden, and she shoved her hideous face into his robotic one and growled, "Because Ĉasista might find you useful and not destroy you!" She then added with a more softened voice, "And a good hunter always appreciates useful information."
Skulker righted his chin and huffed in a mixture of indignation and resignation. What 'useful information'? Honestly, he didn't see the point of the spirit's insisting that he listen to some fanciful story that had nothing to do with him or give him any advantage of getting out of this mess.
"That is better, pet," the spider cooed as she began her story…
"There once was an ancient race of ghosts who came to be as most ghosts did and were very true to their name—as well as ironically named. Their forms looked a lot like the lowest race of ghosts, as the bodies of this olden race of ghosts were essentially small blobs of ectoplasm; and therefore, they could easily fool any other ghost about their true nature. Most all of the ghosts would then easily ignore or dismiss them as unimportant, and even quite stupid, ghosts."
A few of her eyes skirted over to Skulker and she wickedly smiled. Ah-ha, the Skulker was interested as she had predicted! But in all that while, she had never stopped speaking…
"But if there was one thing true about this rare race of ghosts, it was this: they were far from stupid. They were extremely crafty. They recognized and honed all of their natural abilities like no other kind of ghost. They were very observant and eager to experience everything in the unique way that only they could. Their ability to remember practically all that they encountered and the stories that they heard was unmatched by any other ghost race. And in their eagerness to know everything, they searched for everything. That was why they were meant to be such exceptional hunters in spite of their size."
Skulker's eyes inadvertently widened a bit and he squirmed in nervousness. He didn't like where the spirit's story was going. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but be curious about it as well. Somehow, deep down in his core, he needed to know; and so, he continued to listen to the spirit.
"Even the name of their race was an ironical twist of that of the lowest race of ghosts, known as the Malfortas." [5]
One of Skulker's eyebrows hitched in surprise. Of course, he knew very well who the Malfortas were. And he often wondered why it was that he looked a lot like them but didn't at all act like them. In fact, those creatures didn't even speak: they simply moaned and wailed. And they certainly were dimwitted and helplessly pitiful ghosts. They had no sense of purpose. And they always annoyed him because they were not worthy prey. But what did this have to do with him?
"Just what is she getting at?" he mentally growled. "I do not see the relevance of this kind of talk."
But, little did Skulker know that Ĉasista had never severed their telepathic connection even though she had been speaking out loud. And she controlled it enough to keep him unawares that she was reading his thoughts. She could tell that even though he was annoyed, his curiosity and a certain need never dwindled. So like his kind. Still, she knew she had to slightly shift her point in this tale in order to keep the Skulker interested and possibly throw him off-guard to suit her immediate purpose with him. And so, she continued:
"And so ironical, then, that the name of this race is apropos because as rare as they once were, they are all but extinct now. They were known as the Maloftas." [6]
Skulker frowned to himself. Why did he somehow know that name? But, how could he? And why did his core constrict when he heard it? He couldn't possibly know anything about this race she kept insisting on telling him about. And, really, what was the point if they were extinct? Or did she say they were nearly extinct? As if he should care! Still, he wasn't satisfied with rejecting what he was hearing, either…There was a gnawing sensation within him…as if somehow, this evil creature had detected what was important to him, even when he denied it. Something he had somehow lost; but at the same time, didn't know how he had lost it. He half-smiled at the irony. Here he was, the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter, who remembered countless of legends and could re-tell the histories of countless of races of ghosts and even of what had happened in the Ghost Zone itself. And yet, he felt cheated of all that knowledge, even as he never wanted to ever… admit that he did not remember the history of who he was...
Ĉasista snickered only to herself when she sensed his thoughts. She was wearing his mental resistance down as she had planned.
She didn't hesitate to continue, even though her tone had changed to suggest that she was now talking only to herself, "Yes, the Maloftas. A most interesting and paradoxical breed. The make-up of their character was full of contradictions. They both hungered for and loathed the company of others, even their own kind. Therefore, they were unquestionable experts at finding and avoiding other races as they willed. And they were passionate as they were cold in their emotions. Though each of them were truly a loner and though they did not encourage it, they easily secured strong bonds with each other and with other ghosts of their choosing; bonds so strong, other ghosts could swear they were tangible! Even so, their ironic nature made them a worthy race in the cosmos."
Ĉasista paused slightly before feigning a sigh, "Ahh, it is a small pity that they phased away without a satisfying reason. But all the more pity that there is none left to care enough about their demise so as to carry on their legacy."
The spider rested one of her front claws against what could be called her face and added with far less emotion, "However, with all of their complexity, the Maloftas were still 'level six' ghosts. And they became extinct for a very simple reason: they were too curious."
Suddenly, Skulker found himself blurting out, "Just why are you telling me all of this? Just come out with what you want to say!"
The spider spirit was actually amused at his reaction. If he only knew that she had anticipated such a violent rejection followed by a compulsion to embrace and even accept what she was telling him. Still, she finally replied, "Ĉasista can tell that you know her true meaning here. And she will make her point in due time, pet. After all, as you admitted before, you have no choice but to listen."
Skulker harrumphed. Though he wouldn't confirm it to her, he had to agree that he was hardly in any position to stop her. It was just that, for some reason, what she was saying was making emotional dents in his core. And that made him very uncomfortable, especially when he was becoming convinced that he must be one of these Maloftas! But if he were a Malofta, how did he come to be and why was his race for all intents and purposes extinct? His mind hitched in a gasp. Was he the last of the Maloftas?
"And how is it that you know all about this supposed race?" he dared to ask.
The spider sensed that she was making headway with knocking his psychological barriers down. Still, she wasn't going to fully satisfy his curiosity yet.
She almost flippantly replied, "Ĉasista knows much about many things. After all, she is more ancient than even the Maloftas."
Skulker frowned. Just what did she mean by that?
But his thoughts were interrupted when Ĉasista continued, "Now, where was she? Ah, yes. Though the talents of the Maloftas were many, their strongest talent was ultimately their doom. They let their curiosity get the better of them. You see, even though the Maloftas were excellent hunters, they really didn't have any kind of suspicion of other ghost races. And that was because they hunted for the sake of hunting. They wanted no prey except those they could call discovered. And so, in their quest to discover new beings, they often found ghosts far more powerful than they who didn't hesitate to destroy them."
"But then again, in their defense, the Maloftas found it very hard to be suspicious of others because they readily had the capacity to empathize with others. How, you might ask? Because they were able to smell the emotions and even psyche of other ghosts. And that natural tendency made them more eager to converse with—and more importantly, truly listen to—any ghost they happened upon. In fact, that empathy was stronger in some more than other Maloftas."
The spirit smirked to herself when her telepathic link with Skulker confirmed that he was curious to know more.
She didn't hesitate to add, "Much as these talents seem desirable to the foolish, and were unfortunate for the Malofta race, their hunting skills were useless if they let their empathy or curiosity cloud their missions. Not that many did because they could be very stubborn and keep focused on their mission. But for most of them who had a tendency to be more open to possibilities, their destiny was doomed. Many became the prey even when 'level six' ghosts could hold their own against most ghosts. After all, they weren't 'level six' ghosts because of their strength. They really were no match to protect themselves from most ghosts because their bodies were vulnerable and small compared to most ghosts. They were 'level six' ghosts because of their cleverness and intellect."
Ĉasista paused when that last train of thought seemed to jump at her. Her eyes inadvertently skirted over to Skulker and seemed to bore holes in him in examination.
Intelligent…She sensed that this ghost was far more intelligent than the average Malofta. He had to be; otherwise, he would not have been able to devise such a strategy as to protect his fragile ghost body within a powerful suit of armor…nor, more importantly, could he have survived this long. He must have been a much more stubborn and determined Malofta as well. And a very suspicious one so as not to be so openly trusting. Pity that he would not be able to continue to defy the odds now that he was in her power…
Power.
That was the reason for trying to get this creature to cooperate with her by wearing his mental defenses down. Though she was a very powerful spirit, she wanted even more power and to accomplish her two-fold mission.
Though she knew the Skulker was truly one-of-a-kind, she had no desire to appease any more of his curiosity about his kind without his appeasing her with her desires that started this whole story.
She cleverly then said, "So, the Skulker, you know now that you are indeed a Malofta." She took out the Plasonar Modulator and added, "And Ĉasista will tell you more only if you will …"
Skulker narrowed his eyes and his robotic brow furrowed in suspicion as he interrupted, "Oh, I understand now! You would use my weaknesses to get me to do your bidding in the end! I should not have fallen for your bait; but as you well know, Ĉasista, if I am indeed a Molofta, then you will also know that Maloftas learn quickly from their mistakes!"
The evil spider cursed under her breath even as she resisted the urge to destroy him at this very moment. How right he was! And curse his stubbornness! She did know very well the nature of the Maloftas! But, it had been such a long time since she had to remember the distasteful elements of their nature: their stubbornness; their strong loyalty to any ghost they felt an affinity to; and for any ghost they considered as friends, their unbreakable pledge and even bond as allies.
Of course, their stubbornness was a plus when it came to hunting; but it was irritation to say the least when they made up their mind to be uncooperative! Perhaps she should poison him again to do her bidding…No. Their telepathic connections had not been severed during this entire time….and she could feel that the Skulker was bluffing. He did want to know more about…his race!
She suddenly paused when she sensed something very unique about this particular Malofta. Something she had overlooked, but now was very important. Though that knowledge disgusted her a bit, she was now glad she hadn't destroyed him yet. After all, she would never admit that she, too, was a very curious creature which was easily amused by the unique…
"Interesting…This one is very unique, even to his own race," she mused triumphantly only to herself. "Ah, then, his weakness could still be to her advantage to get what she wantss…"
"So, pet," she softly whispered telepathically to his mind this time, "Tell Ĉasista the secret to the workings of this magic device you have given to me and she will reveal to you all the truths about the Maloftas."
Skulker actually startled at this development and shot his robotic head up. He thought that their mental connection had been severed.
"So sorry, the Skulker," she continued almost tenderly, 'that you are not astute enough of a hunter to know when you are the prey that is being studied and taken by surprised!"
Skulker frowned and said out loud, purposely spiting her wanting to speak to him telepathically, "You are no sorrier than I am eager to have you invade my mind! Now. Get. OUT!"
But he still heard her chuckle echo in his ghostly brain just before she continued to blow her thoughts to his mind, "Come, come, pet. No need to get so dramatic. After all, all ghosts are supposed to be allies..."
"And since when do supposed allies tie each other up?" the Ghost Hunter challenged back.
The spider spirit was now no longer amused with him. But she also wasn't through. She continued to wear him down by communicating only mentally with him, "You would not be so smug or stubborn if you knew the truth about what became of your race!"
Skulker was shocked to silence. He did want to know about what happened to his…kind, but he also didn't want to help his foe in any capacity.
Ĉasista sensed Skulker's internal conflict. So like a Malofta; and, in the end, so easy to fool…
"In fact, you do not even deserve such knowledge, for you are not noble or brave enough to withstand the truth!" she mentally accused.
Her words riveted Skulker's core. Skulker squared his chin and hissed, "As if you know or respect the truth, witch! But if indeed you can breathe any truth, then I can take it!"
"Very well, pet," she almost chuckled to his mind. "But first, you will agree to show Ĉasista this device's secrets…"
The cyborg ghost paused in conflict once more. Two of his natures were battling each other: the one that desired for the truth about his history and the one that kept him loyal to Vlad.
This time Ĉasista's spider face scrunched up in a look of disdain when he wasn't agreeing to anything. She shook the Plasonar Modulator threateningly and snarled both out loud and mentally, "So be it then, the Skulker! Since you continue to be a stubborn little Malofta, Ĉasista will rid herself of this pesky little thing and then get rid of pesky little you!"
Her threat was enough for Skulker to decide.
"No!" he protested. "I will program the device to find the one you want!"
Ĉasista smirked in triumph, but she craftily replied, "Does she have your bond on your words?"
Though Skulker frowned, he simply said with a set jaw, "Yes."
The spirit almost cackled in glee before she continued, "Well enough, then, that Ĉasista tells you all that should satisfy your curiosity and show you that loyalty is fleeting…"
Skulker didn't like her remark; but still, he said nothing when the spider proceeded to tell him what had become of his race…
"As you already know, the Maloftas were indeed a most interesting race. They had several thriving colonies that were clustered around each other enough for them to live apart and yet share the knowledge that their hunters had captured. They even had units of commonality—what some creatures would call..ugh…families—whose members were of all ages. Though, ironically, no Malofta ever concerned him or herself about the effects of time and so, the question of 'age' was unimportant. But what was important was what they would deny: They definitely formed strong bonds with each other, whether as family or colony."
"For quite some time, all seemed well for your race's having a delicate and rare balance, until, one day, they discovered the bane of their existence."
Skulker tensed at her words but kept silent.
Some of Ĉasista's eyes caught his reaction, but she continued with the same tone of voice, "You, the Skulker, were quite small at the time. In some ways, that was a curse in and of itself. But, as you hear, it is history…."
The spirit paused briefly and then continued as if she had slightly changed the subject, "A fairly large scouting party of Maloftas returned to their colonies full of wonder and excitement. They had discovered an entrance to a strange new realm that seemed to be bursting with knowledge and filled with a new race of ghosts. Their charged hunter's instinct and curiosity—which was a very dangerous combination—only heightened that hunger."
"Though some of, perhaps, the more enlightened Maloftas objected, that scouting party needed very little persuasion to lead several more Maloftas to that secret realm…in fact, a significant number of them left, leaving a pitiful few behind…"
Somehow, Skulker felt a sense of dread constrict his core and he swallowed the lump in his throat that followed. Nevertheless, he didn't comment.
Though Ĉasista noticed his reaction, she didn't pause in her story, "The Maloftas had indeed wandered into a realm full of knowledge. But they had not wandered into a realm full of a new race of ghosts, though they probably wish they had, for this realm hunted them relentlessly and destroyed all that entered."
The spider spirit's face then glowered and seemed to spit out the next words in disdain, "So, you should understand from now on, the Skulker, that your loyalty to a duone-fantomo is both an insult and a disgrace to your race!"
Skulker's eyebrows shot up when he knew that she must be referring to the only 'duone-fantomo' he was loyal to, which was the half-ghost, Vlad! But that thought didn't keep him from hearing what she said next.
"For you see, the Skulker, it was the creatures in the Sfero de Fantomoj-al-Esti, [7]that eliminated nearly all of your kin!"
Skulker felt as if the spider had stabbed him in his core. Humans had annihilated his race! That is why he hated them!...The truth hurt as much as Ĉasista had said it would!
But his thoughts were interrupted.
"Ah, pet, but there is more!" the spider said with a mixture of glee and doom in her voice. "The ghosts-to-be did more than destroy the Maloftas that had entered their realm. For you see, pet, the bonds that the Maloftas had with each other were indeed very, very rare…they were so strong and deep that, incredibly, they were as solid as the ghosts-to-be's rope! When most of them had been destroyed by the ghosts-to-be in their realm within such a short period of time, the bonds existing within those paltry few left in their colonies severed so violently—as real as any ghost-to-be's flesh is torn—that they went into shock. Many of the Maloftas within their own colonies perished from that shock alone. The very scant few who survived even that had their minds wiped clean—all of them. But as if fate could not be crueler, they also lost their intellect—that is, except for only the youngest, whose minds were in a state of temporary unconsciousness during their required rest when the bond severed."
For once in his after-life, Skulker felt a pressure in his eyes and his throat constrict. Though he wanted to reject her words, something within his core embraced it. It had to be, because it had to be the only explanation for…who he was. He must have been one of the youngest who had survived because he had been sleeping….He paused….Did that mean that there might be other ghosts like him who had to be very young at that time? Or had they met just as worse of a fate? Of course, he might never know…
Suddenly, he wasn't sure how he should feel about all this…Maybe Ĉasista wasn't lying. Maybe the humans had essentially annihilated his entire race and he should hunt and destroy them all! But…there was something rare about him among all of the Maloftas that all of the sudden steered his feelings elsewhere…He had the most capacity for compassion, fair-play, courage, honesty…and…and…
But, her words interrupted his thoughts yet again.
"Ah, pet, but there is still more of you to bruise and humiliate, for Ĉasista needs to tell you that your race does indeed still survive!"
Skulker's face changed from confusion to hope, only for it to crash into pain when she said, "They survived only because they were ignored as the insignificant creatures they now are and deserve to be."
Somehow, Skulker's core seemed to say what she was now saying at the exact same moment: "The Maloftas became the Malfortas!"
Though his core burned with the knowledge, he somehow knew that what she had said was true, especially when he unwittingly heard a faint echo of her laughter only in his mind.
So…not only were the humans responsible for eradicating most of his kin, but also relegating those Maloftas who had survived to the lowest of the ghosts!... Except… for him, as far as he knew…But then again, why was he spared? His thoughts suddenly slipped to his earlier musings.
But only a few moments later, the cyborg ghost tersely said, "You have fulfilled your end of the bargain, and now it is my turn. I will program the Plasonar Modulator to find Plasmius. Of course, you will have to release my arms to do that."
A hideous grin burst upon Ĉasista's face as she practically whooped, "And now, you do understand, the Skulker, that loyalty is fleeting…"
She promptly and quickly unwound the webbing around the ghost's robotic body.
Skulker lost no time in programming the little machine to track Vlad Plasmius.
"It is done," he simply said before he suddenly hurled the small watch-like device against a rock-like object jutting out of the floor of the webbed wall.
The Plasonar Modulator smashed upon impact.
Ĉasista gasped and her face scowled when Skulker added, "And you are correct. Loyalty is fleeting…with one's foes!"
The spider pounced upon the ghost and bit into his head while winding fresh webbing around his arms.
But unbeknownst to the spider and the Ghost Hunter, the little device didn't completely break. Instead, a special feature not even Skulker knew about was activated…
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[1] Esperanto meaning 'cosmos'.
[2] Esperanto meaning 'ghost'.
[3] Esperanto meaning 'half-ghost'.
[4] Esperanto meaning 'human'.
[5] Esperanto meaning 'weakest'. As you know from reading my story, 'Gold Tested in Fire', that this is the name of the lowest race of ghosts. The Malfortas are blobs of ectoplasm with no virtually no intellect.
[6] Esperanto meaning 'rare'.
[7] Esperanto for 'Realm of the Ghosts-to-be', in other words, Earth!
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A/N: I hope y'all are enjoying this story and will let me know! I will be going on vacation within the next week or so; and so, I may be late in updating the next chapter. Thanks for all your support!