head scientist. she was accustomed to being called things like dr flint, or even professor, however inaccurate these titles might’ve been. this one was accurate, sure, but there was something about it that she found odd.

typically, miss flint was preferrable. however, elisabeth was now not only one she considered a valuable scientist, and thus worthy of her respect, but she also now an admin. for this reason, after regarding her a moment and considering, she requested plainly, ”call me lulu, if you like.”

as with jayden cross , another rocket of considerable influence and power, she wanted to ask why? why was elisabeth willingly putting herself at the mercy of a mythical pokémon so many people feared? she felt like she understood the likely thought process of grunts who had volunteered. anything to climb the ladder, but what about the people who were already at the top? what was there to gain from it?

”it’s an easy study on my part. however, i do want to ensure you are fully aware of what exactly we are doing here.”

she raised the pink-filled vial.

”this is dream mist from musharna. this mist will give you nothing but good dreams.”

then, she raised the other vial. the one filled with inky black.

”this is the mist of darkrai. it will give you terrible nightmares. likely the worst you have ever had. i am researching the interaction of these mists together, and how long it takes for good dreams to turn into bad ones. however long it takes, it is inevitable in this study.”

she paused.

”of course, dreams are only dreams.” she was lying through her teeth, then, at least by her own belief. ”but they can be quite terrifying.”

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

as the name hit her ear, it felt odd. part of her immediately wished she could retract the request, but it was already there. she hardly wanted to pull anything away from someone who was of so much value to her.

had the head scientist known how much elisa was aware of her personal life, she might’ve retracted like a skittish cat to the shadows altogether. ignorance was bliss, maybe. or at least, in some cases, crucial to progress.

shrugging aside the discomfort she’d brought upon herself, she only gave a nod in acknowledgment before moving on.

what was the state of the subjects?

”distraught.” there was a pause, as she further considered. ”and often ashamed, i think.”

she would be honest. there was no point in holding back any truths.

”it can be very surprising and upsetting where the mind will go with a hard push. dreams can defy the things that hold our own world together, like judgment, and morality. a nightmare can make someone fear an ugly side of themselves, that may not actually exist.” not in their world, at least.

”i’ll be honest, ms.—elisabeth…” weird. ”i’ve wondered what the appeal of this study has been to the volunteers that’ve stepped forward. i’m perfectly aware that many are afraid of me—not to mention darkrai. but i imagine they come for the feeling of enlightenment that may be gleaned from such an experience.”

there was a pause.

”in a way, it is a chance to willingly face your fears.”

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

”perhaps,” came her simple response to elisabeth’s sentiment, while she regarded her with a curious gaze. while lulu might’ve not been keen on the projection, it was accurate nonetheless.

masochism. being a glutton for punishment was hardly something she would ever claim out loud.

was that why she was here? perhaps finding it too intrusive to ask, lulu said nothing more about it, content to move on to the experiment.

not yet handing elisabeth anything, she suggested, ”you will want to lie down for this. plus, we’ve got to hook you up, still. just some electrodes around the head. nothing major or painful.”

other ideas and instruments were still in the drafting phase. while this was closer to a typical sleep study, the scientist was well on her way to something more befitting of a sci-fi story. everything was data. all memories could be taken, saved, and accessed with the right keys.

her hand gestured to a row of beds.

”take your pick.”

and once she did, the electrodes would be placed between blonde hair, sticking against the scalp, their cords hanging like leeches from a docile host. a mask would be placed over her face. a hiss from the machine next to her would release the pink mist first.

what lied on the other side would be built of wishes or desires, or happy memories. whether elisabeth’s mind decided to go, it would be utterly pleasant—at least, until the smallest amount of black mist was allowed to slip in, like a tiny, venomous spider. said good dream would, eventually, turn into something more sinister.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

the pink mist filled the mask, pulling to the surface roses of all colors. pleasant. the head scientist couldn’t see it, but she could see how elisabeth looked. peaceful. just like everyone else, when they first went under.

part of her missed it. the other part of her was glad she never looked quite so vulnerable anymore.

as the black mist seeped in, it was much like the effect of cream in coffee. it existed on its own, swirling thinly into elisabeth’s lungs. lulu watched for every movement, even the slightest twitch in the face. how long would it take?

the darkness grew, predictably, overtaking the pink mist. it was fitting. darkness tended to creep in the corners, waiting—but it could so easily consume everything around it when given the opportunity. in a way, it was beautiful. she had always been a sucker for that kind of power.

”be gentle with her, please,” the scientist requested aloud, as though the mist itself could hear her. as though she could bend its will.

but the darkness didn’t know mercy. It was like the wind, and water. It simply was, and it would take those that lied its way.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

the good dream was fading. lulu didn’t see petals wilt into darkness, or the young medusa-like doppelganger that elisabeth strangled, but she could feel it all descending into something sinister.

there was something within her that begged her to draw closer, and take what little remained of those pleasant things in her slumbering head. she nearly loomed over elisa, at the edge of self-control. when the black mist was finally all that remained, it would render her immediately safe from lulu’s hungry demons—but hardly from her own.

and then, at that point, the mist filtered out of the mask, replaced with crisp, cool air. elisabeth would be left to wake on her own. if like most cases, it would happen within a few minutes—but there were rare occasions when it did take longer.

the scientist continued to watch.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

she had known running, just as she had known killing a lover—however indirectly or unintentionally. it haunted her, and once upon a time, his blood had filled her own dreams, smeared across the faces of her demons that had now followed her into the waking world. they had nowhere else to go these days.

elisabeth continued to dream, and lulu, having gotten what she needed, turned to take a seat across the room. she crossed a leg, and grabbed a neglected cup of coffee, and stared into her own thoughts.

perhaps sleep acted, normally, as a compartment for the world’s worst thoughts. the darkest things that all its people could conjure inside their heads, tucked away benignly, so that they could not disrupt and destroy the ‘real’ universe.

how would the world be if not for dreams? how long would it continue to exist? what purpose did dreams actually serve?

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉