"No! You can't!" the researcher blurted.

It was an overly serious response to what Chryssa assumed her mission partner had intended as a joke. Still, the sort of crude simplicity to "beating them up" appealed to her. She stopped and studied the disheveled scientist, smoothing over her expression. Was he hiding something? If so, Chryssa intended to pry it out of him.

"Why, you seem quite upset for a mere suggestion," she said, watching him carefully. She tried to keep her tone light. "Particularly for such an unfeasible one-- no offense intended!" The girl smoothed down her hair, eyes narrowing. "After all, it would require a Corsola."

The researcher looked deeply uncomfortable. Chryssa cast a triumphant glance towards Priam and turned back. "Pray tell, Mr. Scientist, you wouldn't have a Corsola we could use... would you?"

The man finally broke down, admitting that periodically along the journey, it was standard procedure to net a specimen or two for general examination and tagging. One such specimen was already on the research vessel behind him, awaiting release. It was likely that the predator would chase stragglers rather than taking on the full colony at once, even this close to the breeding grounds.

"But I won't let you use it as bait," he added in a rush. It was noticeably unconvincing.

Chryssa leaned over to look at the GPS pad in Priam's hands again, noting the dark patch growing closer. "So! Decoy it is," she said brightly, clasping her hands together. "Marvelous. Fetch the Corsola here, please." She turned away from the researcher, who, torn, finally moved to do as she'd said. "Do you have any water Pokemon, Priam?" she asked, looking out across the water with one hand on the rail. "I'd rather not actually sacrifice the Corsola once we catch this beast's attention."

It was like opening the floodgates. No sooner had Chryssa disposed of the creature on her arm than the other stuffed heads on the wall began to shake and rattle; first faintly, as if merely enraged, then intensely, as if caught in an earthquake. The effect was disorienting and Chryssa seized the staircase railing to support herself, legs feeling weak.

Nails pried themselves from the wooden frame as one of the heads, a Sawsbuck, shuddered its way from the molding and caught itself midair, suspended by unseen forces. A Mightyena head frozen mid-snarl was next, flipping end-over-end before invisible hands righted it in the air. Torn between morbid excitement and genuine alarm, Chryssa's eyes darted down the hallway and then back to the floating taxidermy pieces. The impulse to send one of her Pokemon out to defend herself was strong, but something made her hesitate.

It ruins the experience. 

It was rare, in this world where Pokemon could be easily caught and purchased, to feel afraid. To feel genuinely threatened, not just for one's partner or for one's battling credibility. It was so rare to be afraid, even in a tame, structured environment like this one. She'd signed up to be faced with a simulacrum of danger. Now that it was actually working, what business did she have trying to deflect it?

But that was human nature. People never stopped trying not to die. Even when it defied all logic and desire.  

The two heads shot towards her, aiming to pelt her frail body, and Chryssa's hands instinctively moved in a flash of red. There was a cascade of tiny lights and then the Purrloin she'd caught downstairs materialized in the air, claws outstretched. The feline Pokemon yowled and dug its claws into the sides of the deer head, the cat's weight bearing it down to crash into the Mightyena below.  As it did, the psychic energy controlling the heads seemed to drop and they rolled lifelessly to the ground. The Purrloin leapt back, hissing, and landed on all fours with its back arched. 

Chryssa ducked as another dark shadow flew over her head and just barely saw a Shuppet shoot away down the hall, vanishing around the corner. Heart beating fast, Chryssa lowered her hands from where she'd lifted them to shield her face, letting out her breath. "That was certainly exciting," she noted. It was comforting to have a companion, actually, and she directed some of her remaining nervousness into a serene smile at the cat, who seemed to relax. "Keep up if you can, it's going somewhere."

They rounded the corner to find a hall of mirrors. Kaleidoscopic images curved and cascaded from the walls, ceiling and floor, playing tricks on Chryssa's eyes. She turned her head to glance down at her Purrloin, hundred broken reflections mimicking her motion. For a moment she saw the Shuppet again in a broken piece of glass, eyes luminescent, before it disappeared.

The dumbwaiter ride was slow, and dark, and agonizing. As it edged out of the light Chryssa found herself breathing shallowly, the dusty smell of the little-used means of transport choking her nostrils. She closed her eyes tightly and forced herself to keep pulling the rope, arm over arm, until she felt it come to a stop.

She was upstairs. Chryssa crawled out of the small opening stiffly, propping herself up and dusting off her dress. Despite her discomfort, the sense of triumph at having come this far by her own power kept her in high spirits. “Let’s see, where are we now…” she wondered out loud, casting a glance around herself.

She seemed to have come out at the end of a long corridor, which stretched all the way down one side of the building before turning a sharp corner towards where Chryssa assumed the staircases led. More eerily, the hall was lined with the stuffed heads of Pokemon. Whether trophies or monuments to honored servants, Chryssa couldn’t tell, but their glassy eyes watched her impassively.

Something made a rattling sound.

The girl didn’t jump, but her back stiffened as the odd noise came from down the hallway. Of course, she had to pursue it. Chryssa picked her way down the line of taxidermy heads, eyes narrowed. There has to be a trick to this, she thought, and the rattle came again. There!

Heart beating faster, she turned on a stuffed Sableye bust. “This one,” she said, and reached out. Was there something behind it? Or—

Clawed purple hands stretched out of the wall and seized Chryssa’s as the head smiled wickedly, animating as she sprung its trap. Its head rattled again ominously on its shoulders. Chryssa tried to snatch her hand back and pulled the ghost-type out of its frame, the Sableye’s jewel-encrusted body gleaming suddenly like many tiny eyes.

It clung to her like a monkey as Chryssa screamed, struggling to retrieve a Safari Ball from her dress pocket. “No you don’t,” she panted, fingers finally closing around one of the miniaturized spheres, and managed to trigger the device. The grinning Sableye disappeared in the red beam, its weight instantly lifting from her arm.

There was little to do now but retrace her steps, and Chryssa found herself at the main foyer again. She cast another anticipatory glance up at the staircases. I really don't want to go up there, she thought wryly. She could lean on her cane going up, but coming back down might be more of a problem.

She glanced at the exit, not because she was thinking about leaving, and grit her teeth. The door was now closed. Additionally, long, creeping bare branches seemed to have grown out of nowhere from the frame, snaking together like interlocking fingers meant to bar her escape. "Marvelous," Chryssa said brightly without a hint of irony, and turned away again. "Stairs it is."

Before she could take her first step, a small door inset next to the opposite set of stairs caught her eye, and the girl clicked across the dark room to investigate. Upon inspection it was revealed to be a small dumbwaiter; something that servants or staff would probably use to access upper floors. It was somewhat of an archaic feature in a mansion, but Chryssa admired the detail. It lent to the feeling of this place being old, and probably deeply haunted by the misdeeds of some forgotten aristocrat.

The girl climbed inside, fitting herself snugly into the cramped and dusty space, then took hold of the rope. Wouldn't it be exciting if it snapped? she thought, but it would be difficult for them to successfully pull an effect like that off while still assuring her safety. Or would it? Come to think of it, I don't recall my safety necessarily being promised, she thought. The usual assumption in places like this was that one had appropriate Pokemon with them to handle the territory.

The thought of genuine danger excited her, and Chryssa pulled on the rope to begin her ascent. As the dumbwaiter edged out of sight, she saw the hidden Phantump break free from the door knocker and shoot away into the ceiling, its conjured branches withdrawing.

The kitchen was strangely sterile, giving off the impression it had never been used. Chryssa supposed it had been constructed specifically for this setting. The stovetop had probably never even been turned on.

Despite this fact, Chryssa was stopped cold by what appeared to be a live cable in the middle of the kitchen. Something had chewed through it, leaving two fraying, sparking ends arranged plainly to see. I suppose this is supposed to solve part of the mystery, she thought. All the rooms she’d seen so far had been dark, as if electricity wasn’t functioning inside the manor. Sabotage from within clearly played a role.

I suppose the kitchen wouldn’t be working either, she thought, but a sudden flare of light caught her attention and she hesitated, brows rising. Blue light had lit up from the stovetop. One of the burners was on. That shouldn’t be connected.

One by one, the other burners lit up and flared with intensity until a roaring fire lit up the kitchen, lapping at the edges of the counter. Should I do something? Chryssa wondered, eying the flaming display in alarm.

Taking this as a sign that she should turn back and explore somewhere else (assuming it was part of the haunted house and not an actual kitchen fire) Chryssa turned and quickly walked back out of the kitchen, leaving the hidden Fennekin undisturbed. In the corner of her eye, she saw the flames go out again, extinguishing themselves as she left.

Apparently she wasn’t being as closely monitored as she’d hoped. A pity, Chryssa thought as she carefully picked her way across one of the rooms on the ground-level floor.

Upon entering the Safari Zone mansion she’d been presented with her choice of staircases; twisty, well-crafted things that looked simultaneously grandiose and sketchy. Not being the steadiest on her feet, however, Chryssa had opted to explore the other rooms first. If this really was a proper haunted house, there should still be plenty of decent scares accessible.

The room she entered seemed to be an abandoned parlor room, tiled from wall to wall with ornate furniture hidden under faintly billowing dust cloths. A window was cracked slightly, allowing a cold draft into the room to stir the sheets and curtains.

Chryssa jumped slightly when the sound of ripping fabric suddenly tore through the air. “What the hell,” she whispered, annoyed with herself for being startled so easily after all her big talk, and forced herself forward. Her cane clacked on the tile as she moved towards the source of the sound. Stupid recording sound actually scared me. Probably just under this couch…

She moved a piece of the fabric back with the tip of her cane and was surprised by a pair of luminous eyes as the Purrloin underneath stopped scratching the dusty upholstery. It arched its back and hissed in warning at her. Chryssa plunged a hand into her dress pocket, retrieving a Safari Ball and throwing it at the creature. It was too dim in the parlor to see anything unusual, and all cats really did look gray in the dark.

”Here, kitty kitty,” the girl murmured as the shaking stopped. Strangely enough, the brief scare and resolution had settled her nerves somewhat. Pocketing her new feline friend and letting out her breath, Chryssa turned towards a doorway at the far side of the parlor, which seemed to lead to a kitchen.

Chryssa’s eyes narrowed at the scientist, trying to gauge whether lack of sleep and exhaustion from the journey might be playing into his assessment. Maybe that’s all, she thought, trying to curb the thrill of growing excitement within her. Or maybe something’s out there. Something terrible.

She couldn’t wait.

”My my, Mr. Priam, you actually have some spunk!” she said, casting an admiring glance towards her mission partner. ”I positively can’t wait to see your grand battle. I just knew this mission would be exciting.” She clasped her hands, smiling. Some might have assumed the teenager was being sarcastic, but her sincerity was more alarming.

“Battle?” The researcher asked, voice pitching shrilly. “We’re not battling. We have to get the Corsola out of here!” He jabbed at the GPS in Priam’s hands, indicating a dark blob slowly inching on screen. “N-no, it’s not here yet. I’m not sure what it is, but this stalking behavior isn’t typical of Huntail or Gorebyss. I suspect an invasive species. It’s been following us since we left the harbor, picking them off one by one— if it follows them to their breeding grounds it’ll decimate the local population.”

“Well, I think the boat drives itself at this point,” Chryssa pointed out, indicating the many dots on screen that seemed to indicate the migrating corsola. There were many, many more than she’d expected. ”I’m not sure there’s any stopping them. Unless you have an idea, Priam!” Her tone of voice changed, becoming brighter, as she glanced at the blue-haired fellow. He said he’s been bored. Let’s fix that.

Holding onto the railing to steady herself, gesturing at the black splotch on the GPS, Chryssa smiled. ”I propose we act as decoys!”

The hinges to the haunted mansion creaked delightfully, creating exactly the kind of effect Chryssa had been hoping for. She made sure to open the door painfully slowly to fully savor the experience.

The dark and threatening atmosphere of the seasonal Safari Zone had Chryssa feeling wonderfully, savagely giddy. I'm looking forward to seeing whatever the wardens have set up, she thought. Considering the number of wild Pokemon expected to be present (at least according to the information at the front desk!) there was no telling what surprises might be in store. Pokemon had minds of their own, after all, and surely not all of them would be happy to stop at mere fun and games. Perhaps they'll turn on me, or turn against the set designers themselves. I'll go through thinking people are just trying to scare me, but really, it'll be the ghost Pokemon. Chryssa's eyes gleamed. That would be a horrifying twist, wouldn't it? Though it would be a shame about the actors. Well, if she was lucky, there would be a healthy mix of both theatrics and genuine supernatural events.

Of course, even if it did turn out to be corny and predictable, Chryssa was sure to enjoy herself. She always did.

"My my, what a lovely setup," she declared, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut dramatically behind her. She leaned slightly on her cane, taking a deep breath as she forced her eyes to focus on the dark interior. "I think I'll be taking it for myself now."

If that wasn't just begging them to release the hounds, nothing was.

Thanks for all your hard work! ^_^
It's really paid off, I'm looking forward to seeing everything in store for the site.
Claiming a battle pack, please!