Yvette sat at the warmly lit table at the Café Soleil in Lumiose City. It had been...how long since she'd had her last encounter with the dreaded Mask Maker here? The young woman could still remember her terrible face and the thought made her shudder. Those wild, red eyes that stared through her soul, perhaps researching what it would be like to have such a thing as a soul herself—because a monster such as she couldn't possibly possess one. Or if she did, it was dying and dark and corrupted.
Her wild hair, sharp teeth and sharpened claws all suggested that she was something inhuman despite the fine vest suit she wore. Under her strange gentlemanly actions was something bloodthirsty and beast-like, with an animalistic strength to propel it forward.
Luckily for Yvette, her modeling agency had accepted her back when it was time for her to return to work. They didn't mind her scar—which, in her opinion, was perhaps the ugliest thing in the world. Two of that beast's claws had made it to her face, leaving two parallel marks across her cheek and nose. Just thinking about it made her angry. The last time she saw The Mask Maker she had practically been paralyzed by fear, but now she wanted to slap the cursed smile off that demon's face. Even if the thing killed her in turn she would do it, damnit, if she ever saw that creature again.
The young model's knuckles were turning white from gripping her cup with severe intensity, and she set it down with a shaking hand and closed her eyes. She had made a point of coming out here every week to drink to the monster getting locked away for good. She'd see her beastly grinning face on the news occasionally, as apparently everyone was still obsessed with the fact that she had once been a hero. Yvette didn't care if she had been anointed by Arceus itself, what she had done was enough to damn her to the Distortion World for good. It didn't matter if they showed The Mask Maker's previous sweet and determined face instead of the creature she had turned into, it was all the same to Yvette.
Yet, despite her anger, she was still haunted by her encounters. She saw her in every black shadow. Every red light that gleamed in the night made her heart skip a beat, and it took her a moment to look away and know that she hadn't been caught in a mind snare. Wherever The Mask Maker was, she hoped it was far, far away with the best security possible.
Morai paced around her dark room, her fingers twitching at the thought of those beautiful substances. Both glimmered in red and had an effect on her she couldn't quite describe. They both tore away the chains that had bound her to a terrible and cursed dual nature, placing her comfortably on the side of pure evil, yet they chained her down with the incessant taste and desire she had for them both.
The prisoner licked her teeth. She had elected to not come out of her room for fear that she would lose control and walk herself into a future where she didn't have eyes. She didn't doubt Arthur's ability to make good on his word. He seemed like the type to ignore what everyone else said, acting according to his own self-made laws and sense of morality. She could respect that in him. That and his fighting ability, at least, although she longed to see more of it. She wanted a good fight, one where she didn't start out handcuffed on the ground. She'd even keep her extra weapons—her claws and teeth—out of it, letting the brutal yet somehow elegant nature of the art she practiced do its own work.
"It's time to get up, Two Face!" a familiar voice boomed outside, calling her a nickname she had only previously heard from one person. Speaking of the devil, he had come to give her a rude awaking, even though she hadn't been asleep. The door swung open and a big, hairy arm reached in and grabbed her by the collar, slinging her outside and throwing her new hat along with her for good measure. Morai's eyes squinted in the new light.
"I'm trying to do what you want," she growled, taking the hat from the floor, dusting it off and placing it on her head. Apparently, the chief had never been told about her deal with the doctor, whose name she still didn't know.
"Yeah? Well you're not going to do it sitting in that room all day," he said. "Go with Louise here and get your wounds re-bandaged."
Arrthur gestured to a small young nurse with hair the color of a light pink rose, standing rather sheepishly to the side of the large man.
"Not unless I'm handcuffed and blindfolded," Morai demanded.
"Why so? Afraid you're gonna go crazy and attack the poor thing? Why, that's wrong! I thought the promises I made to you earlier were enough. Or is that we can't trust a beast to keep from doing what comes natural?"
Morai snarled and shook her head.
"See? That's exactly what I mean!" Arthur said, pushing her in front of the nurse, who shuddered a little and stepped backward as far as her short legs would take her. The chief of security was obviously trying to test his prisoner, trying to give himself any reason to exact any cruel and rather unusual punishment he could think of—rendering her blind and therefore being unable to use her current psychic powers being chief among them.
Morai began to walk behind the woman, towering over her like a Lycanroc looming over a Wooloo. She did a pendulum step up and in front of the nurse.
"I don't think that you're thrilled about this arrangement either, so let's try and help each other, shall we?" she said. "I'll come out swinging first with one big question. How do you feel about donating blood?"
The nurse stopped.
"Well, since I have a rare blood type, I like to donate it so that the people who need—"
"No, no, silly!" Morai said, leaning in close. "Donating it to me! I need it!"
The prisoner sensed Louise's—or as she now knew her, the girl with rare, probably delectable blood—fear shoot through the roof. She instantly backed away, putting her hands up in front of her chest.
"Ah, that's right. I forget I'm terrifying sometimes. My apologies. I'll mark you down as a no on that one for now. We should come back to it later, however."
I bet it would taste—no, shut up, you fool!
"Alright, I just need you to promise me this. If I get too close to you and happen to have this bloodthirsty look in my eyes, slap me as hard as you can. Better yet, punch me in the jaw and go for that one-hit KO. Here, I'll even teach you how to—"
"Ah, Morai!" the voice of the doctor exclaimed from behind.
"Doctor!" Morai said with a laugh of relief, taking her hat off and bowing with it. The tall man did the same. "Thank Arceus you're here."
"Why is that?" he asked with a knowingly yet seemingly naive smile.
"Well...you know," Morai chuckled again, secretly cursing the man.
"Oh, that's right!" the doctor said. "You don't need my help with that," he remarked with a flippant wave of his hand. "I think it's a great exercise."
Morai's pleasant expression began to turn desperate. She eyed him with a pleading look, and he simply met her eyes with a smile.
"Trust me," he said, tipping his hat and walking away. As Morai watched him leave, he mouthed the word "twenty."
It was all well and good that Morai had managed to eat away at sixteen hours by sleeping and staying in her room, but she still had more than half of it to go, and she was now alone with the perfect opportunity to break her deal. This poor nurse had been thrown in the midst of her struggle, and Morai was pretty sure that Arthur had forced her into it somehow.
"Here's our next plan," The Mask Maker said sourly. "We're going to get in and out as quickly as we can, and you're going to take me right back to my room. Does that sound good?"
Louise nodded, her light pink bangs leaping from her head with every movement. Morai looked at her a long moment, saliva gathering in her mouth.
A rare type...I wonder if it would taste—
The prisoner slapped herself.
"That was supposed to be your job," she said to Louise in a sarcastic half-scolding tone, the red imprints of her hand appearing across her face.
The two moved along to the medical wing into a small room. It looked like a regular doctor's office, homier than the cold monochromatic lab Morai had first seen the mysterious doctor in. She honestly preferred the lab. She sat herself down in the rather comfortable leather chair and waited patiently. The prisoner had to admit that she didn't mind not wreaking havoc for a change. In this situation the only thing holding her back was her deal with the doctor and Arthur's threat. There was no physical barrier blocking her from doing what she loved most, she was simply choosing not to. At any moment she could spring up and lunge at the one seemingly in charge in one quick motion, so quick that—
Stop it! she sharply thought. She looked down to see that she had been gripping the arms of the chair so hard that her nails had sliced through the cool leather as easily as they cut through skin. Louise was waiting patiently by her side with the necessary materials in hand, a flat expression on her face. The young woman didn't seem to show much emotion other than the rather toned-down gesture of apprehension. Morai offered the nurse her upper arms and whatever else needed to be bandaged again, having to explain that the black wraps spiraling around her wrists and forearms weren't hiding wounds but instead protecting the covered areas from wounds and injuries. Without them, her own claws would dig into her hand every time she balled it into a fist, ramming the sharp points into her skin as she made contact with the poor soul she was punching.
"They let you keep those?" Louise asked. Morai nodded and shrugged. Come to think of it, she wasn't sure why they had let her keep them. They only encouraged her to hit harder, after all.
Morai closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the chair as Louise worked around her. Normally, she wouldn't expose her neck in such a way, but she figured the tiny nurse wasn't going to suddenly go rogue.
"What do you think, Louise?" she asked. "Does everyone have a monstrous and evil side to them?"
"I...don't know," Louise answered somewhat hesitantly. "There are truly good people in this world, or so I'd like to think."
"But with the right push, haven't I proven that anyone can become the absolute worst?"
"...I guess so."
"Even you? Are you capable of the same monstrosities that I've committed?"
Louise didn't answer. She simply continued to work with a slight frown on her face, not looking her patient in the eye.
"The answer is yes, Louise," Morai said with a devilish grin. "I can give people a wonderful gift. I pull a great big mirror right up to them and show them their own dark shadow staring back at them, begging them to set it free. Then, they wake up in an unfamiliar place and see what happens when you do let it free. Most reacted in horror, others in denial, but not one yet saw what I saw."
Morai spoke as if she was describing something magical, using her arms to aid in her description while poor Louise tried to keep hold of and bandage them.
"I'll admit, I was horrified at first, but one day the chains that bound me to the cursed duality of man were broken by something outside of my control. I didn't just befriend my Shadow, I became it, and it was wonderful. Doesn't it eat at you, Louise, that you always have to choose between evil and good? Doesn't it stretch your soul to its limit, wearing away at you as you put on a mask and do things simply because that's what's expected of you? Don't you—"
This time, Louise had slapped Morai. The prisoner realized that she was holding the poor woman's hand in a vice grip, squeezing it so hard that Louise's usually dull face was contorted with pain.
"Oh, Fiddlesticks, Morai!" she said to herself, letting go as if she had just touched a hot stove burner. "Are you alright, Louise? I got carried away. I'm sorry," she said, taking her hat off once again and bowing. Morai was right. She was perfectly polite when she wanted to be, but also when she wanted to avoid staring down the blade of an arguably crazy police chief's knife.
"It's alright," Louise said, rubbing her arm. "I know you didn't mean it...at least I don't think so..."
"No, if I had meant it I would've—never mind it," Morai said. "I suppose we're all done here?"
Louise nodded, and the prisoner immediately got up to leave. She couldn't take it much longer. She had to do herself a favor and lock herself away, or she'd end up with blood on her hands again. Before too long she'd simply lose control. As dastardly as she was now, she still held a deeper and darker shadow within her soul, and at times like this it was thrashing around in its chains, trying to break free—it was almost succeeding, too.
I could almost taste it. Feel it running down my throat and chin as onlookers watch in horror...
"Louise," Morai said as they walked back down the cold hallways, "what time is it?"
"I don't have a watch on me," the nurse replied.
"I usually pay no mind to the time, but today...or tonight, whichever one it is, is important...do you mind if we run back to my room?"
"I—I guess we could—"
"Great!" Morai said. She picked the nurse up, much to the poor woman's surprise, and swung her around to her back. Louise didn't have a choice but to wrap her arms around Morai's neck and hang on for dear life, burying her face in her shoulder as the beast of a human dashed through the halls.
It's funny...this frigid air feels completely soulless. Whatever deity was worshipped here, it's warmth left the halls of this place long ago, and was replaced by the devil.
"Oi!" a passing guard yelled. Another stepped in front of Morai, and the prisoner had to sidestep to miss him, but she kept running. It would work out better if she was sedated, since it would shave off another several hours of her remaining time.
Morai rushed back to her room, struggling to remember the way. She nearly passed the door and came to a sudden halt, almost throwing Louise off of her back.
"Here we are!" she said hurriedly. "Now who has a keycard?"
"We all do, but nobody's lettin' you in," she heard Arthur's gruff voice shout from down the hall. As he got closer, Morai saw that there was a big, stupid, self-satisfied smile plastered across his face. The doctor followed him, his face glowing with curiosity. Perhaps his trust in Morai was a little too great to start out with...but is that we he left her alone with that nurse? Maybe he wanted to see how far her limits could be pushed, how long she could keep that darker shadow contained. He was a scientist, after all.
"Why not?" Morai groaned.
"Look at you! Your eyes glowing furiously red, saliva dripping from your mouth, your bared teeth. We can't just let you in there to fester! You've got to do things! But not violent things, of course. What'll it be instead. C'mon gentleman, I need ideas!"
I could get him right here and now...We could fight fair and square and I'd tear him to pieces...Are my eyes really red? I guess they do that with any strong feeling.
Arthur grinned at Morai, the eyepatch still covering the marks she gave him. She could see the damage peaking out from under the edges of the patch, and it was beginning to heal and likely scar.
"I know!" a familiar voice said. As soon as Morai heard it, she looked around for its source, but it was hidden.
"Ah, Maria!" Arthur greeted. "What'dya have in mind?"
"We could go out into the courtyard, I suppose. I don't think Morai has been outside since she got here," Maria said.
That mysterious girl, where is she? If we're left alone together, she may end up in the hospital wing. I would rather it have been Louise than her...
"Why, that's a marvelous idea! Somebody fix Morai here up with a blindfold. We don't want her getting too familiar with the exits."
A guard approached Morai with a blindfold, and she gave one last desperate look toward the doctor before her hat was removed and the cloth covered her eyes. A hand gently grabbed hers and led her away to what she was confident would be both her and Maria's demise.
What a cruel, stupid joke, she thought. Arthur is perhaps as bad as I am, sending this poor girl away with me knowing I'm about to snap. At least if I can't see her, she has a good chance of going unharmed.
"Right through this door," Maria said. Morai could sense the kindhearted cheerfulness in her voice. She felt the cool wind of the outside on her face, and it was the first time she had breathed fresh air in who knows how long. Maria walked out, but Morai stopped in the doorway.
Surely there are guards here, no? I don't sense or hear any. If I pass through this threshold, I'll likely do something that turns her away forever. Even though it was annoying at times, I did like this strange situation. Not seeing her, only having a voice to the name. No one to dream about harming. No one to—
"Morai? Are you coming?" that mysterious voice asked.
"I...I don't think I should," Morai muttered. She could feel the fresh outside beckoning her to come out, but something else pulled her back. She could smell the newly-bloomed plants that decorated the courtyard, but something made her want to back away and stay in the dark and dusty cathedral.
"Why not?"
"I just...don't think it will end well," the prisoner answered.
"Nonsense!" Maria said, taking her hand again and gently pulling it forward. Morai took one step forward, and then another. She took a deep breath and let the early spring air fill her lungs. Then she stood there.
"It really is pretty out here," Maria said. "You should see it."
"I shouldn't," Morai said.
"Nonsense," Maria answered. "But I can't reach you to untie that knot. You're going to have to take a knee."
Morai stood still. She so wanted to see the source of that mysterious voice, but she was so thirsty for blood. It wasn't a very good mix of desires.
"Come on now," Maria said. "It'll be alright."
Finally, Morai slowly took a knee, lowering her head a little so that Maria could see the back of it. She felt the knot become slowly undone. The cloth fell away and the light hurt her eyes. When the prisoner looked up, she saw the face of her own mask staring back at her. At first she was confused, thinking that she had been stuck in some strange dream all along, but Maria chuckled and unbuckled it, and Morai finally saw the source of the voice.
Maria was indeed short, at least to Morai, who was taller than average. The young woman seemed an entire foot shorter. She had long, blonde hair with bangs that fell across her nose. Her eyes were like a crystal blue ocean, a contrast to Morai's dark and stormy ocean-colored eyes. Morai stared right into them and Maria didn't seem to mind. The dark colors of the mask she held in her hands—Morai's mask—seemed to clash with the light colored dress she was wearing. It swayed in the breeze, the flowers and graceful Swanna looking as if they were flying along the backdrop of the light blue cloth.
"Wow..." Morai whispered. The prisoner stood up and backed away.
It would be so easy, she thought. There's no one around. I bet her blood would taste more delightful than the rarest of types.
Her hands were shaking, and adrenaline began to pump through her veins, preparing to spring her into violent action. She ran her tongue along her sharp teeth and swallowed the drool that had gathered in her mouth, hoping it would help her extremely dry-feeling throat. Her fingers twitched with anticipation.
But Morai just stood there, staring into Maria's eyes, and Maria looked back with a soft smile. She approached Morai, and Morai backed away.
"It's alright," she said.
"I don't...I don't want to hurt you...I mean, I do a little, but—"
Morai's stammering was stopped by Maria's hands taking hers and leading her over to a small and elegant garden table, complete with a chair on each side. The trainer gripped the table as she pondered her strange situation.
No, this isn't supposed to happen, Morai thought. It's in my nature, it should be simple instinct to fight and hurt! But this one action—or lack of action—is it perhaps a small beam of good shining through my dark soul of evil? Will I return to being cruelly thrown back and forth between good and evil until the battle between the two tears me apart? I should snuff that light out and attack, I should keep myself safely on this dark side...yet something compels me not to. Why?
It wasn't Maria's appearance that kept that darker shadow within Morai from breaking free, and it wasn't even the threat of Arthur's blade. Something else compelled the prisoner to keep her strongest compulsions chained down as best she could, though she couldn't figure out what it was.
"You seem tense," Maria said. She was looking Morai in the eyes.
"Of course I am," Morai answered through gritted teeth.
"Well, let's just talk. How is it being outside for the first time in a few weeks?"
A few weeks? How long have I been here, exactly?
"It's nice," Morai replied.
A moment of silence passed, and Maria looked down as if she was thinking about how to formulate her question.
"What do you want? Out of life, I mean. In the long run."
Morai looked away, searching for an answer, but ultimately shook her head.
"I can't say," she said. "Every passing day immediately begins to fade away into the abyss, and I can't see beyond mere seconds into the future. I cannot see my end destination. I suppose that death could take us any time, so we must live in the moment. As long as I continue to get stronger and become a more proficient fighter and piano player, I'll be content."
"...That's it?" Maria asked. "No dreams of grandeur? No bold idea to reconstruct society? No hope for love?"
"Love?" Morai chuckled. "I can't love, and no one could love me. I'm fine with that arrangement. In my walks in the city and its alleyways I would see a heartbroken soul at least once or twice a week. One even boldly asked me if could hypnotize her ex-lover into taking her back."
"I don't remember hearing about those," Maria said.
"I didn't attack them. I figured fate had done enough. I assume you have hopes of love?"
"Oh, yes," Maria answered. "I'd like someone to share my life and soul with, someone strong to love and protect me. Someone to take my hand in theirs as we walk through the ups and downs of life together."
"Well, there are plenty of big strong guards around here," Morai said. "Although, I'd recommend learning how to protect yourself. Relying on anyone else for such a thing is a very dangerous game, and it's one you'll often be punished for playing."
Right now, for example. I'm just a big step away from you and I could—shut up!
"I suppose that has some truth to it..."
Morai stood from her seat, gripping the chair and closing her eyes.
"I guess we'd better head back inside now," Maria said, handing Morai's mask to her. "I hope you enjoyed your short time outside."
Morai seemed like she was falling ill for a moment, then she shook herself out of it and looked Maria in the eye.
"It was nice to see you," she said with a very rare sincere smile. "Literally."
"I'm going to take this way out so I can go home," Maria said, gesturing to a stone pathway under an arch that had various flora woven throughout it. "I'll see you around, and now you'll see me around, too."
When Maria disappeared from her view, Morai looked as if the imaginary strings holding her up straight had been cut. She stumbled back to the garden chair, gripping it so hard that the small muscles in her hands and wrists were pushing against the cloth of her handwraps, making them tighter.
In the Dream Realm, Past Morai opened her eyes with a surprised gasp.
"She...she really did it!" she exclaimed with a big smile, looking up to her Light counterpart.
"I was beginning to doubt that she could be changed. I could see her walking down a corridor, proceeding further and further into a place so dark nothing or no one could reach her...but somehow, the tiniest glimmer of light and warmth shone through, providing her just a bit of vision! Oh, thank Arceus for Maria, that wonderful woman!"
"I gotta say, kid, I didn't think you'd make it," Arthur's voice sounded from behind. The prisoner looked back to see the man leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and a foot resting across the other. "I assumed I'd be pulling you off of that poor girl before you took a bite out of her neck."
"Why didn't you stop me before that possibility occurred?" Morai asked breathlessly and quietly, not even bothering to look up at the chief.
"I said I didn't think you'd make it, but I saw you try your hardest to, and you did. I don't know why you did, but I'm impressed."
"Your threat," Morai muttered. She knew that wasn't what it was, but she wasn't going to let Arthur believe it was anything else, especially not any sort of kindheartedness.
"Pfft, you know that was a farce!" Arthur laughed. "My wife'd lock me up in here if I did that!"
Morai slumped to the ground, wrapping her hand around the front of her throat. She could feel the scar from her own claws on her neck.
What now, then? Lock myself up in my room and see if I can sleep? Even that old dog's alcohol-ridden blood seems delectable now. I could taste it when we last fought.
But when Arthur opened the door to the cathedral and motioned for her to go through, shespotted a better option.
Louise
Morai brushed herself off and nodded to the chief, but as soon as she stepped through the threshold she ran and wrapped her arms around the nurse. Louise shuddered at the feeling of the prisoner's breath on her neck, and her sharp claws so close to her skin. Every guard including Arthur pulled a gun, but Morai flexed her claws and held them warily close to Louise's neck.
"Not so fast, gentleman," she said, as breathless as if she had just run a marathon. "I've got a hostage."
"Morai!" the doctor called, urgently running up the hallway. "Thirty-six hours! It's over! Let her go!"
Morai only smiled.
"Whatever you've got isn't as good as warm blood straight from the source," she said, licking her teeth.
