In this part, Red turns into a Spy Kid™ on his quest to eliminate the threat that is Taylor Squidft. Also, he has some edgy thoughts. But when does he not.

This one took so fricccciiinnnn long to write for some reason, but here it is now. And just like Red leads you to believe, the next one’s gonna be a good one (also like the second/third to last one so that’s also something to look forward to yaaay)

Anyway, enjoy!





–





“This property is under psychic surveillance.”

That’s what the sign had read earlier that day, when the sun had still been above the horizon. Now that the only lights were those of faraway street lamps, Red could barely recognize the text and the eye symbol next to it.

He could hear the continuous static again, but knew that, just like last time, his brain would eventually ignore it. However, the tingling in his wrist’s wounds would remain, allowing him to still detect the changes in the intensity of the psychic energy around him.

Psychic surveillance. An example of nature still surpassing technology. With just one kadabra, the property owner got a complete psychic overview of a considerable range. If any living being tried to approach the building, the kadabra would sense it instantly and fend off the trespasser. And, in case of dark types, there was always Miracle Eye.

But no matter how keen a psychic’s eye was, even with Miracle Eye, it couldn’t penetrate the defense the seal provided. Effectively, this seal cloaked Red’s spiritual presence entirely. All he had to worry about was the psychics’ corporeal senses, but considering that they’d probably lived most of their lives relying on their spiritual abilities alone, it didn’t mean much more than avoiding their sight and not making too much noise. If even that.

Though, if he were spotted, he’d really be spotted. The kadabra might not be able to attack him themselves, but they could certainly alert the non-psychic bodyguards, which, in a worst case scenario, would report him to the police. And, while he could always just pretend to be a run-of-the-mill stalker if caught, it was rather important for Red to stay on the law enforcement’s good side. He’d screwed up too many times in the past already. If they managed to link him to any more incidents, they might get curious and want to investigate. And at that point, Red’s options would be to flee the region, spend the rest of his days locked up or get shot while attempting to stab an officer. None of those options would be very beneficial to Red and His relationship, so it was vital for him to succeed.

The cold had nearly taken all feeling away from Red’s fingers, so he decided to move. No one was guarding the back door outside, probably because of the freezing temperatures and the fact that walls were no obstacle for psychic vision. Silently, Red crept across the yard and pressed his ear against the chilling surface of the door. He heard no voices, and the seal’s vibrations stayed constant. Either there was no one, or-

His thoughts were cut short by the sound of approaching steps. He drew back and dashed to hide behind the corner.

“Dear Arceus, this job…” Red could hear. The voice was gruff and tired.

“Damn kadabras can tattle on me as much as they want… Maybe getting fired is what I need.”

Heavy steps descended the stairs, and from behind the corner, Red could see a white, hairy mon saunter into view. It was the same species as ShirLee’s personal security from before, but Red couldn’t tell for sure if it was the same specimen.

Red abandoned his corner and began to sneak closer. He pulled a vial and a rag from his pocket, opened the vial and poured a small amount of the fluid onto the rag. He closed the vial, put it away, and stopped in his tracks when he was just a meter or two away. He hoped dearly that the mon wouldn’t turn out to secretly be a grass type.





Red leapt onto the mon’s back, causing it to flinch in shock. The mon tried to grab Red with its gargantuan arms, but Red was faster. He’d already pressed the rag tightly against the mon’s muzzle, and its first, panicking breath had been enough to begin to daze it. By the time its paws touched Red’s shoulders, it was already too overwhelmed by the spores’ effect to use any kind of real force. Finally, it collapsed onto the thin layer of snow coating the asphalt, unconscious.





Red searched the inert mon, and soon found the magnetic key in the pocket on the inside of the mon’s coat, but his hand also touched something else. He grabbed onto it and pulled it out. It was a flask. Red opened it and took a whiff. The strong odor of alcohol made him dart back.

It seemed that the mon had just made his job a lot easier. Red had been prepared to stage an alcohol addiction, but apparently Unovan drinking habits really were as active as the jokes had led one to believe.

Red poured most of the flask’s contents onto the mon’s slightly open mouth. With moderate struggle, he turned its massive, weighty head to its side to prevent it from drowning. Then, he carefully placed the flask onto the creature’s open paw.

Red stood up and analyzed the scene. It seemed believable enough. Now, he could move forward.





Having opened the door, thrown the magnetic key back, slipped inside and seen the empty hallway, Red proceeded along the walls, constantly monitoring his surroundings and the feeling in his wrist. The further he got, the louder the distant voices of performers, bodyguards and other personnel grew. Suddenly, the itch surged in intensity as well. A psychic was close.





A few steps away, there was one cracked door among the numerous closed ones. Taking every step as quietly as possible, Red approached the door. On his wrist, it felt like a bombardment of pins and needles. Each time the feeling strengthened, Red thought it couldn’t get any stronger, and each time he stook another step, he was proven wrong. His fingers were numb, and his arm was losing feeling.





The power of the psychic must have been immense. There was no doubt about it - in that room, there was an authentic kadabra. Perhaps even an alakazam. But if it was indeed a mere kadabra, Red would make it his mission to never cross paths with a real life alakazam again.





Red slid past the door, as quietly as an airborne noctowl. From the creak, he could see a yellowish figure slumped over, breathing calmly.

Astounding… Even while asleep, the kadabra radiated such tremendous amounts of spiritual energy. If such power would go unrestrained, it could surely break a human’s psyche as easily as a dried twig. Red knew what physical pain was, what it felt like and how it made others act, but the world of psychic torture was something he hoped he’d never have to discover.





As he moved further away from the door, his pain gradually subsided, and he could let himself resume a normal breathing rhythm once more. He could locate his left hand again, even move his fingers, although somewhat stiffly. Red exhaled deeply, relieved, and concentrated again on what was before him. He took a turn towards the murmurs of the showfolk and left the horrifying hallway behind.





Having turned the corner, Red noticed the walls and floor change color. Instead of all being a plain white, they were patterned and textured in off-white, beige and sophisticated black. Now, it really seemed like a place fit for world class performers.

More of the surrounding doors were cracked, and the voices afar were fully audible, albeit still rendered incomprehensible due to the sheer multitude of them.

Just as Red had given up trying to make sense of the conversations, he noticed movement in the corner of his vision. Two approaching shadows were cast on the wall behind a corner. Red quickly slipped into one of the cracked doors, and noticed he’d entered a bathroom. All of the stalls were empty, of course, so he hid in the one farthest away from the door.





To his annoyance, the door to the bathroom soon opened. After weighing his options for a second or two, he locked the stall’s door and raised his feet. It seemed to be the least risky alternative.

Heart pounding, he waited patiently for the two figures’ next actions. It wasn’t nearly the first time he’d hidden from someone, but adrenaline was a fact of life.

The door was closed.

“So didja hear about ShirLee?” Red heard one of the strangers begin. It was a woman’s voice, and it sounded a lot like an inkay. Performers, perhaps?

“I don’t hear about anything beside ShirLee these days,” the other sighed. Her voice was nearly identical, only a bit lower.

“This one’s juicy, though, you wanna hear this.”

“Okay, tell me.”

The first one paused for a moment.

“Okay, so,” she then began, “I overheard her speaking with her agent, and, get this.”

“Yeah?”

“He thinks she should get everstone surgery.”

“What? What the hell is she gonna need it for?”

“I know, right?”

“Bitch hasn’t done a single cartwheel in her life! What about us?”

“I guess he thinks we’re expendable.”

“No hella way. Is he stupid? Besides us, there’s like, fifteen inkay in the biz. He really thinks there’s enough out there for even one to go and poof into a malamar?”

“You’d think he’d be more concerned about his precious cutesy-wutesy pokédoll-lookin’ girls.”

“Yeah. Once you go malamar, it’s either breeding or battling for you. Either way, it’s bye-bye to the adoration and fans.“

“I heard some scientist guy say once that humans only like us inkay because we remind them of babies.”

“Their larvae? Oh, I hate those. They just scream and scream and scream. And still they bring ‘em to the shows and distract the hell outta everyone. Why couldn’t they lay eggs like mon? Eggs don’t make nearly as much noise. In any case, sayin’ we look like those maggots is definitely an insult.”

“Wait, though. Didn’t ShirLee, like, say somethin’ about a guy visiting her?”

“What guy?”

“On her Chatter?”

“Ah, that guy. Yeah, I don’t believe her for a second. No human looks at a coldblood that ain’t shaped like one of them and says ‘Yeah, that’s hot’.”

“Some fans of hers were sayin’ they found the same guy yesterday, though.”

“And you believed that? Didja just get internet yesterday?”

“Don’t be rude. They sounded pretty convincin’.”

“Sure, whatever. In any case, if there’s something Anders need to talk to ShirLee about, it’s her drinking.”

“Oh, you are so right.”

“Like, she says it’s no big deal, but I say hell yeah it’s a big deal. We’ve got lives too. She can’t just go screwing up our rehearsals, no matter how rarely. Or ‘seldom’, like Anders puts it, when someone tries to call ShirLee out on it.”

“Seldom kinda sounds like shieldon.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Well-”

“Forget it. Show starts in fifteen. We should get going.”

“Whoa, wait for me!”

Red heard the door open once more. From then on, he couldn’t hear anything beside the normal background mutter, so he decided to exit the stall. After carefully walking up to the door and pausing to listen after every step, he cautiously left the room.

He looked at his watch. Fourteen to the show’s start. He should wait around a bit before moving on.





Red wondered if his lord was okay. It was a cold evening, and He couldn’t keep himself completely covered if He were to watch the show. Sure, there seemed to be some sort of roof structure on the stadium, but it would still be chilly, at least. Red hoped He wouldn’t catch a cold. Red didn’t like seeing Him in pain.





But Red liked losing Him a lot less. And while what he was planning to do would probably sadden Him, it was for the benefit of them both. Red would get Him back, and He would find Red again. Someone who actually cared about Him. Someone who actually…





Red checked his watch again. Twelve minutes. He began to stare at the hands. They didn’t stop, no matter how aggressively he leered. After every tick he tried again, but the seconds he stretched would always abruptly switch to the next one right when he thought he’d captured them for good.





Red gasped for air. He’d forgotten to breathe.





He decided to wait the last minutes normally.





After eight agonizing minutes, the murmurs increased considerably in volume. The show was ready to start. Red stood back up, pulse accelerating. He waited, now with revitalized patience, for the show to begin. He looked around with tired but vigilant eyes. No one had arrived in his hallway after the two inkay, so he didn’t expect anyone to do so now, but he still kept watch. There was a lot at stake.





“Ladies and gentlemon!” rung out a loud voice from somewhere far forwards. Finally, the show had begun. Red could be sure ShirLee wasn’t in the inner building anymore. It was time.

Red snuck up to the next corner, pulled out a small pocket mirror and held it so that he could view the next hallway up ahead. No one was there. He moved to the next corner and repeated the same trick. Still no one.





The next hallway ended in an intersection. Red checked the left side first. No one there. He checked the right one, and immediately pulled back. There were two doors, each guarded by another one of the white mon the security mon Red had bumped into earlier. Apparently they were the best mon in Unova for the profession, then.

Further forward, there were also some miscellaneous personnel roaming back and forth, making some final adjustments, it seemed. In the background, there was raging applause at the moment. ShirLee must have come on stage.

Red stood motionless and kept listening.





After the fuss at the end of the hall had died down, Red could overhear a conversation.

“I think they’re all gone now,” started one of the security mon. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” the other nervously asked.

“The break room, of course.”

“What? But it’s not even our break yet.”

Red could hear the first one burst into laughter. The laughter continued for a while - but then, suddenly, it ceased.

“…Oh,” said the mon that had just laughed, sounding disappointed. “You’re serious, aren’t you.”

“Of course I am! We can’t just abandon our posts like that!”

“What, is this your first shift ever or something? Buddy, everyone does it.”

“But what if an intruder-”

“The front’s got eyes to spare, and no one’s gonna come through the back. They’ve got kadabras.”

“But-”

“Medvedovski drinks on the job. You can’t be worse than him.”

The other one didn’t say anything.

“You’re not gonna get in trouble. I promise.”

“…You promise?”

“If we get caught, you can say I made you do it. They’re always lenient on first-timers.”

“If you say so… I guess I could go for a cup of coffee.”

“That’s the spirit. Let’s roll.”

Red felt the floor thump as the heavy beasts strolled out of hearing range. He took out his mirror and checked the hall again. It was empty.

He leapt into the hallway, made his way to the previously guarded door closer to him and tried the door handle. The door opened without effort and revealed a room with different kinds of clothing on the walls. It didn’t seem like anything more than a storage room, so Red closed the door and moved on to the other one. He tried the handle and found the door locked. It must have been the door of the reluctant mon, since it would have been unlikely for the slacker to bother locking his own.

Red sighed. He’d have to get the key.





The break room wasn’t hard to find. All Red had to do was follow the sound of deep, guttural chortling. The mon seemed like they were having a good time.

Red stood outside the cracked door, eyeing the coats the mon had hung on the wall. It made sense for ice types to like their clothing a bit lighter indoors.

Red inconspicuously surveyed the room using his mirror. There must have been at least nine mon of that same species there, sitting at a table, chatting and laughing. They seemed rather preoccupied with their conversations.

Red noticed one of the mon acting a bit meeker than the others. It was probably the hesitant one. He would have to watch out for it. It was most likely the most observant one in the room right now. He looked back at the coats. Most of them were within arm’s reach, but the door wasn’t open enough for an arm to comfortably fit through.

Red waited for the right moment, and then lightly pushed the door half open. He listened if anyone would react, and when no one did, he checked the room with his mirror again. The mon had now begun to play cards. Even the meek one had his eyes on the table.

Red reached his hand into a pocket of one of the coats closest to him. He didn’t worry too much about visibility, since the opened door now created a rather good cover for him. He found the key and grabbed it entirely with his fist to make sure it wouldn’t jingle in the slightest.

At that moment, Red realized how sweaty his gloves were. Wearing them indoors wasn’t comfortable, but he had to do so to avoid leaving fingerprints all over the place.

Red sighed in slight disgust and pulled the key to himself. He decided to go back to the hallway to try it. That way, he could put the key back in the right coat upon returning. He withdrew from the door and began walking.





It was the wrong key.

Red expected it, but still let out a small groan when the key refused to slide fully into the lock.

Disgruntled, he made his way back to the break room’s door. The conversations inside were still as lively as ever, and all the coats were still on the wall. Red silently picked up a new key from one of the coats and put it in his pocket. Then he, holding the previous key, reached his hand forward, and…

Uhh…

Which coat had he taken the key from again? The second closest one, or the third? Maybe the fourth…? Damn.

Well, he could just search the pockets of them all to see which one was empty-

Suddenly, Red heard one of the mon get up.

“You know what, guys,” it said, “I gotta go take a piss. Dmitri, make sure they don’t look at my cards.“

It looked Red just had to guess. Quickly, he dropped the keys in one of the pockets and jerked back. The mon was nearly behind the door already. Red, while struggling to both stay quiet and move fast, still managed to slide behind a corner before the mon could see him.

He listened closely where the mon’s steps were headed. Fortunately, they were not in his direction.

After the mon had left, Red snuck back to the hallway with the locked door.

He tried the new key, and to his delight, it slid smoothly into the lock and turned with virtually no force. Red grabbed the handle and pulled the door open.

Inside, there was a very luxurious, spacious room filled with things Red remembered previously seeing in a certain someone’s hotel room. Red instantly knew he was in the right place. It was ShirLee’s room.

Perhaps whoever was in charge of hiring security had known about the slacking off going on and given the most important key to the one least likely to be negligent.

In any case, as much as he wanted to enter, he knew he had to return the key. He left the door slightly open and rushed back towards the break room. The halls leading there started to seem rather familiar by now. Before making the final turns, he waited a minute or two to make sure the mon would already have returned.

Then, having reached the door once more, Red placed the key back into its coat’s pocket. This time he’d known better and memorized which one it was beforehand.

That should be all, Red thought. He turned around and casually traversed the halls back to ShirLee’s room. The door waited for him, cracked, just like he’d left it. Excited, Red entered the room and closed the door behind him.

The aroma of the same perfume from yesterday greeted him. She liked it a lot, it seemed. Red didn’t mind it - it was pleasant smell. But honestly, Red thought, she’d probably smell even better without it.

Red decided to check the door to his right. It led to a sizeable bathroom with a shower.

She would probably shower after her show. That’s when he would get her.

Red checked his watch. He had time to spare. He could snoop around some more.





There wasn’t anything too interesting in any of the three rooms Red searched. Just all the things one would expect a superstar to have in her room. Makeup, fan letters, contracts, liquor… Though the liquor seemed to have been consumed rather efficiently.

Clashing with the fancy decor, there was the mandatory bright red pull station in case of fires right beside the door. It would help him escape. For now, however, he would wait in the shower behind the curtains.

But just as Red was about to enter the bathroom, he heard some sounds and voices from the direction of hallway. He quickly hid inside a closet nearby.

“Hurry up! He’ll be here soon.”

“You said we weren’t going to get into trouble!”

It was the two security guards.

“Shh! Stand still and act like you’ve been here the whole time! Oh, here he comes! Let me do the talking!”

They both stopped talking.

Some time later, Red could hear a man’s voice. It was a human, or at least a very human-sounding mon.

“Good show tonight, isn’t it?” the voice said.

“Yes sir, Mr Anderson!” replied the slacker.

“Anders.”

“I apologize, sir, Mr Anders!”

“Apology accepted. But don’t let that happen again.”

“I will not, Mr Anders!”

“Lovely. And you. You were new, weren’t you?”

This time the meek one responded. “Uhh… Y-Yes, sir.”

“How has your first shift here gone so far?”

“I-It has gone well, s-sir!”

“Have there been any intruders?”

“None whatsoever!”

“That’s good to hear. Now, gentlemon, I’ll have to excuse myself. I have lots of work to do. Keep up the good work.”

“We will, sir!” shouted both mon.

The human didn’t respond anymore. For a short time, the hallway was quiet.

“…Did you put your key in my pocket?” began the meek one suddenly.

“What?”

“The key to the room you’re guarding.”

“No, I couldn’t have, it’s in my…”

The slacker paused.

“…Huh. Well, I guess one of the guys must have put it there.”

“Do you do those kinds of pranks often? Seems kind of risky…”

“Oh, we do all sorts of risky things. But it’s rarely something as pointless as switching keys… Then again, Roman always had a terrible sense of humor. I’ll talk to him about this later. Though he’ll probably just say he has no idea what I’m talking about. He thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Well, here’s your key back.”

“Oh, right. Thanks. Anyway, let’s go back. He won’t be here again in another thirty minutes.”

“Alright then…”

After the mon had left again, the hallway quieted. Red shrugged, exited the closet and proceeded to the bathroom.

The curtains were pure white and seemed opaque. Red confirmed the latter by trying to view his arm through the material - he couldn’t. Perfect. She wouldn’t even know what hit her.

He moved through the curtains, closed them carefully and sat down. He looked at his watch. The show wasn’t even near to being over. He sighed heavily and leaned against the smooth, tiled wall.





Red tried to keep himself entertained by thinking about all the things he could do to her. He couldn’t kill her, that was a given, but besides that, he could do almost anything that wouldn’t leave permanent marks on her body. So, anything that could be healed later with potions or would be wiped away with her memory. That was a large “anything”.

Red took a minute to listen to the singing going on in the distance. Her voice wasn’t bad at all. Would her screams be as beautiful, too? Or was she more of a crier?

In any case, he’d be sure to make her suffer. Mostly because she deserved it, but Red couldn’t deny the fact that he was eager to find out what a cephalopod could offer.

He could never do something like that to Him, after all.





“Thank you, ladies and gentlemon of Viridian! You’ve been wonderful tonight!”

About time!

All the idiotic songs and introductions were finally over. It had been a mistake to ever pay any attention to them for longer than five minutes. “Be Yourself”, “Can’t Keep Me Down,” “My Greatest Mistake”? Having to listen through them all was like being smothered with a vanilla-scented, overly puffy pillow. Sickly sweet, uncomfortable and way, way too long.

Abba had been right. Red didn’t know what “plague” meant exactly, but he felt like he just experienced quite a good heap of it. Whatever He saw in her music, Red could not.

But soon, the moment he’d been waiting for would come, and he would make sure she would feel at least twice the torment he had just endured.

He stretched his limbs, neck, back and sides and shook his right foot until it woke up again. Seemed like the experience had been numbing in more ways than one. He pulled out the rag and vial from his pockets. The yellow spores had begun to sediment, so Red shook the vial until the liquid seemed homogeneous again. He didn’t drench the rag just yet, but got ready to do so the moment the bathroom door opened.

He listened closely to the commotion in the building. It was very similar to what it had sounded like just before the show.

A minute or two later, he heard a conversation happen in the hallway, but a majority of the words exchanged were drowned out by everything else going on in the background. He could, however, tell that the other speaker was a woman, so Red got ready. It might have been her.

The door opened.

It was her. A humming noise signified her approach. It was very quiet. Levitating must have been something that took minimal energy for inkay. They did use it almost constantly.

Red crouched as he heard her open the bathroom door. He opened the vial, poured some of its liquid onto the rag, closed the vial and tucked it into his back pocket.

She floated closer. It was only seconds now. Red stared at the still view of the calm, white curtains, ready to pounce at the very moment any motion caught his eye.





She opened the curtains.

Like an ekans attacking its prey, he lunged at her. Upon impact, he clutched her with his free arm while slamming the rag onto her beak with the other. She wriggled and squirmed as hard as she could, wildly throwing all ten of her arms around. Red responded by tensing up his muscles and tightening his hold even further. With time, her movements became lazier and weaker. Red took this as a sign that the spores had taken effect, and began to loosen his grip.

Then, suddenly, as if she had been struck by lightning, the inkay pushed herself away with newfound strength. She splat onto the floor, shakily lifted herself up to hover and reached for the door handle.

At first, Red was frightened, but after getting up, he noticed the inkay’s motions slowing down. The spores had gotten to her. She had just feigned losing consciousness the first time. Perhaps the inkay wasn’t as empty-headed as Red has thought.

Nevertheless, he’d still managed to overpower her. By the time he’d reached the inkay and wrapped his arms around her, she’d lost all power to go on. She fell back onto his chest, limp and passed out.

She was surprisingly light. Red had expected her to weigh as much as Him, but supporting her took barely half the effort.

Red wrung the rag dry above the sink, opened the tap and let the water run for a while. Closing the tab, he stuffed the rag into his pocket and pulled out a minimized pokéball from another. He pressed it to enlarge it and lightly tapped her with it.

Nothing happened.

He struck her with it. The ball opened, and she disappeared inside it with a bright flash. The ball closed, and Red felt it nudge, nudge, nudge, and click.

How lucky it was that she was a free mon.

Free mon… Hah. There was no such thing.





After minimizing the ball and putting it away, Red briskly walked to the fire alarm and pulled it in one determined motion. The alarm rung out, and Red quickly moved to hide inside a small cupboard in the second room. It was uncomfortable, but he saw the closet to be too risky.

“Ms ShirLee?” called the mon guarding the door outside.

“Ms ShirLee!” it called again, after receiving no response.

Soon, the mon dashed into the room.

“Ms ShirLee, you need to leave! Ms ShirLee!”

Red heard the mon trot about the rooms, searching for the inkay in vain. After a while, it ran back outside and began asking the passersby whether they’d seen the inkay in question. Every time the answer was no, and every time the mon grew more desperate. Finally, he gave up and evacuated with the rest, though not before reconfirming where the meetup spot was. Luckily for Red, it wasn’t in the back.

Soon the voices of people and mon had faded away and only the alarm remained. It was starting to quite annoy Red. But it was fine. He was leaving anyway.

He crawled out of the cupboard, crept out the room and began making his way back towards where he’d originally entered the building. The hallways were all empty by now.

Red could already see the dim concrete environment outside. Delighted, he ran the final hall faster than the others and exited the door. The cold of the outside pricked his face all over like a swarm of furious beedrill, but he didn’t care. He trod over the snow-covered asphalt briskly but carefully to avoid slipping, and rushed out of the vicinity of the building and the entire area.

Having made it to a street far enough away, Red slowed down to dig the ball out of his pocket, just to be sure he had it with him. He let himself smile again. Soon, the smile spontaneously evolved into a grin. He’d done it. The hardest part, at least.





Now all that was left was the fun.