KKK: LOL, nice chapter title, Lady S.
Me: Yeah! I can use alliteration! W00t!
KKK: I think you'll really like this chapter.
Me: Me too. It's pretty good.
KKK: Points for you if you recognize the beautiful song in here.
Both: AAML FOREVER! (And don't forget to review)

Chapter 5— A Dark, Dank Cellar to Quell an Aching, Abused Heart

Misty tugged at the white cloth wrapped around her mouth that served as a gag, her cries and moans muffled by it. But she was too weak, and the knot too tight, to allow her the pleasure of escape; and she was being dragged by the collar of her dirtied t-shirt, to she knew not where. Why would Brock do this to her? Why would Charcoal do this to her? Had they no heart, no conscience? The ground was hard and rough beneath her, and her entire body ached from the abuse that she had endured. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying; she was pale and trembling; and she had not eaten anything all that day or the night before.

She felt raindrops splash against her feverish skin; and she only wished to taste the water, and pacify her thirsty desires; but to her groaning she received only a laugh—a laugh devoid of all heart, feeling, warmth. And then she saw that she was being dragged into a large brick building—and down a flight of steps (which was very painful)—and then tossed into an empty room with cemented floors and walls; and the only light provided from a bare, flickering light bulb that hung from the short ceiling. Finally her shirt collar was let go, and she sat helpless and confused on the grimy floor.

The gag was violently pulled off her, and a man—not Brock, not anyone she knew—knelt before her. She was too frightened to say anything now that she had the power to do so.

"You may have one thing; and one thing only."

"Ash Ketchum!" she cried impulsively; just the pronunciation of his name giving her a little strength, a little warmth to her freezing heart. The man scoffed at her, waving the cloth gag in front of her as if it was a taunt.

"Don't make me put this back on you, silly girl. You may have one thing, but that one thing cannot be a person or Pokémon."

She shook violently and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as she contemplated what she could possibly want, if not her darling Ash. But she was rudely awakened from her reverie by her stern companion.

"Tell me now, girl, or you get nothing."

"I… a piano," she said, her voice now hoarse and quiet. The man looked at her quizzically, but nonetheless said that it would be brought to her.

"Food will be brought eventually," he added, and then the heavy cellar door was closed behind him, and Misty was locked in. She could have kissed the man's feet for his affability, although he spoke in a cruel, condescending manner, and clearly cared nothing for her; but it is true it was the closest thing to kindness she had received these past days.

The man, holding the gag that had once wrapt around Misty's mouth, walked down a dark, narrow corridor. She started when he saw a pair of red eyes gleaming at him from the shadows, till a wave of recollection passed over him.

"Celebi," he said coolly, "Fetch a piano for the prisoner."

The Pokémon made no reply, but turned away and floated down the corridor till it reached a door, and, flinging it open, stepped into the light of day.

Misty waited, chewing on the unbuttered bread she had been given to eat and drinking the small cup of water she had to drink slowly and steadily. Suddenly a Celebi appeared, her eyes glowing red. A piano was being held by psychic powers and she lowered it to the ground.

"Thank you; why do you serve them?" Misty managed to say after a few seconds. Celebi made no reply and sat by the door, empty crimson eyes staring intently at Misty. She sighed and sat by the piano. She needed no music sheets. Her heart would give her the music she needed.

"Let's go

With bloodshot eyes, I watch you sleeping

the warmth I feel beside ME is slowly fading

would she hear me, if I called her name

would she hold me, if she knew my shame

There's always something different going wrong

the path I walk is in the wrong direction

theres always someone fucking hanging on

can anybody help me make things better

TEARS!

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

her conscience calls the guilty to come home

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

her conscience calls the guilty to come home

The moments died, I hear no screaming

the visions left inside me are slowly fading

would she hear me, if I called her name

would she hold me, if she knew my shame

There's always something different going wrong

the path I walk is in the wrong direction

theres always someone fucking hanging on

can anybody help me make things better

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

her conscience calls the guilty to come home

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

her conscience calls the guilty to come home

This battered room I've seen before

the broken bones they heal no more, no more

with my last breath I'm choking

will this ever end, I'm hoping

my world is over one more time

Let's go

Would she hear me, if I called her name

Would she hold me if she knew my shame

There's always something different going wrong

the path I walk is in the wrong direction

theres always someone fucking hanging on

can anybody help me make things better

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

her conscience calls the guilty to come home

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me

her conscience calls the guilty to come home," she sang beautifully, tears of pain and of a thousand broken hearts streaming like rivers down her pale cheeks as her fingers delicately pressed down on the ivory keys. She sighed and leaned forward on her hands, sobbing hard. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and turned to see two eyes staring down at her, full of warmth and pity.