Tomei shivered under the clouded moon, a spooky air seemingly hovering by. He felt as if he was being watched, but it most likely, just the paranoia commonly felt when alone in the dark. The moon's face did seem rather haunting tonight. He gave a weary glance over his shoulder, despite his jelly eyes already spotting anything within its 360 view. A brown sack was was draped casually over his shoulder, like a delibird about to make a delivery. Though this sack seemed a bit more grotesque than something santa would be delivering. The canvas bag was stained a crimson at the bottom, a sort of thick glob leaking occasionally to the ground below.
As Tomei looked anywhere but infront of him, a loud clanging noise and blow to the legs seemingly stopped Tomei's heartbeat. He nearly doubled over the metal gates of the cemetery, flailing to keep his balance before tumbling head first over the railing and into the ghastly confines. The crimson stained bag was sent flying into a tombstone, Tomei's head wearily rising, his skin smudged with the dirt he so unwantingly just ate. "Uhh, where did that even come from?" he muttered, still sprawled on his stomach between a few resting places of the dead.
A silhouette sat before the night's moon, a delicate haze surrounding the graves further in the yard, a small home hardly visible in the depths. Yet a crash and groan could be heard over the parties of silent dead. The silhouette's head snapped towards the noise, red-glass glinting in the light as curiosity festered the heart of the Murkrow. Too much was this curiosity that the shadow gradually stood upon the roof top, dark wings spreading across the night sky. One little hop, a second, and a third lead the bird to the tip of the roof top. One last hop came before the bird took off in flight, its black wings taking it to the grave now splattered with red.
The bird landed facing away from the fallen fellow, crouching atop the tombstone before slowly seating its butt upon the stone. "Greetings, night goer," quorked the Murkrow, its head turning to a side as its masked gaze stared off across the field of graves.
Rye fell backwards, leaning upside-down from the tombstone on which the bird sat, its hat falling to the earth by the mysterious bag.
"Welcome to Good Mourning cemete--," greeted Rye to the Tentacool before something fascinating caught the murkrow's eye, cutting off its words. Oh, this bird was sure curious of what was in the red-stained bag. Oh so desiring to know, but there were more important things in this world.
The Murkrow allowed its legs to tumble over its body, landing it on its feet right by the blue fuzzy head of the Tentacool before it knelt over the fellow. Hands raised, hovering over two large shiny objects on the man's head. By the gods that were shiny, these two brilliant red orbs must be Rye's.
"Um, 'scuse me," Tomei said in a fluster, eyes widening as his jelly eyes stared above at the greedy hands lingering above them. What was this person doing? Too close for comfort, that was for sure. Especially in a creepy place like this. Tomei sat up, scrambling backwards until his back hit the metal gates, the rattling sound sending shivers up his spine. He eyed the person in front of him wearily, brows furrowed. He couldn't quite tell the pokemon's gender, what with that mask and clothes completely obscuring the being.
He kept a close watch of the bird's hands, eyes only shifting momentarily to the creeply, plague doctor-like mask. "Hello, ...mis-...um, hello," Tomei muttered in a fluster, unsure as if to say 'mister' or 'miss'. "S-Sorry to intrude," he apologized, now looking about to see where exactly he was. The gravestones...He bit his lip....A graveyard...He quickly looked back up at the haunting figure. "You're not a ghost...are you?" Tomei asked, brows in a knot, his back pressing further against the gate. He spared a moment to look at his sack nearby, but still out of reach...unable to high tail it outta there.
Oh beautiful shining orbs, why were you retreating, Rye thought to itself as the man pulled back. The murkrows hands followed a tad, as if there was still hope of holding the great glittering orbs that held the moonlight.
The man had pressed himself to the cemetery's metal fence, his eyes wielding suspicion towards the Murkrow, Rye could tell, Rye could tell. As the Tentacool retreated, the Murkrow scooted closer, sitting just half a foot away from the nervous, or perhaps frightened soul.
"You take me for the dead?" quorked Rye, a giggle slipped out from behind the mask, black curls bouncing as the bird tilted its head back. The head lowered once the laughter came to a sudden halt. The murkrow taking the time to silently stare at the man. one minute, two. Various thoughts ranging from frivolous to serious ran through the head of the masked figure in this short time.
"You have not intruded at all," It finally said, while it climbed to its feet. Rye's full height was not grand, in fact, it was rather short. But with small height came great flexibility. Rye was off, shooting towards the beg the man had brought. Oh, how the murkrow could not take the curiosity any longer! If Rye could not have those orbs, then would quench its need for knowledge. Rye took up the heavy beg, dragging it away.
"Now, my good night goer. What is it you have desecrated a lovely tomb with?"
Tomei bit his lip nervously as the bird simply 'stared' at him in silence, though not knowing what the creature was actually doing under that mask was more frightening than anything else surrounding the tentacool. He glanced from side to side, looking for a good way to scramble off into the night, flailing and hopefully giving a good chase before the monster caught up to eat-oh.
The bird hopped away, grabbing Tomei's dirty little secret. "No, wait!" Tomei cried out, lifting a hand to urge the bird to stop as he scrambled to his knees. "Don't open it, please!" the jellyfish pleaded, now on his feet and moving directly in front of the murkrow. A shiver ran down his spine, the mask still rightfully creeping him out. But he couldn't run away without the sack. Its contents were thoroughly embarrassing.
"Please! No one should ever, ever, ever look inside that sack!" Tomei said in anguish, brows furrowed as he pointed to the dripping bag. If curiosity truly did have a strong hold on the bird, it was discover a treasure trove of failed fruit recipes inside the bag. Truly embarrassing to poor Tomei who worked so hard to complete a pie for friends and people of love interests. Unfortunately, his skills were not up to par...
Oooh! Oh ho ho! Whatever was in this lovely sack had just grown more valuable in Rye's eyes. The Tentacool's reaction dug the pit of curiosity even deeper, the face behind the mask practically drooling at the concept of digging its hand in and pulling out what?
Oh, the murkrow sure hoped it was some fellow's skull. How horrifying would that be? A fearsome water creature hauling its kill away in the night so that it may be buried peacefully. The man was sure to be hiding away some horrible evidence.
With glee the Murkrow flew the top open, its greedy fingers diving into the red stained sack. Those stains could be nothing other than blood, the dark bird was sure. What else made such a deep red?
Rye's hand fell into something cold, squishy, and moist. "Fresh brains?" The masked figured asked. "Chopped intestines, maybe?" The muffled voice behind the mask sounded far to excited as Rye's bum swayed side to side. Out the arm came, and in the moonlight Rye observed the substance cupped in its palm, even gave it a sniff, however unlikely it was for the bird to smell anything through the mask.
"Fruit," Rye said plainly, the excitement wilting as the Murkrow's tail fell in disappointment. "A bag of fruit. You are an odd one, sir." Rye gave its hand a shake, ridding the fingers of all things pulpy before turning its head to the side, staring at Tomei once more. A fist gathered the opening of the sack in a hand, and with a single prancing twirl around the bag, Rye dragged the stained thing back to its owner. "You know this is disappointing, correct?"
Tomei let out a small gasp as the bird did exactly what the opposite of what he instructed. His eyes widned in terror as the bird scooped it's hand into the canvas container, Tomei doing a little jig of dissaproval in his dismay. "Wait-no-stop!" he cried, hands rising to his face, and pulling down on his skin.
However, Tomei's expression shifted dramatically the the murkrow's following questions, his skin taking a new hue of green...With a slight eye twitch, the tentacool listened to the bird squawk on about grotesique organs supposedly being the contents. His two hands quickly found their place over his mouth, the jellyfish looking as if he might vomit if the bird continued.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Tomei whimpered from behind his hands, a gargeling sound encompanying as if the vomit was not too far down his throat. What was almost more sickening was the bird's dissapointment that its contents were completely normal.
Tomei's hands quickly grabbed the large sack that was shoved his way, holding it close to his chest as if it was his injured child.
"I'm sorry to dissapoint you," Tomei muttered, a disgusted expression dancing across his features. He took a cautious step backwards, holding the bag tightly, the sticky red substance now clinging to him. "You must really be a monster after all..," Tomei said quietly in awe. "After all, what kind of person is excited for a sack full of brains...," he continued, his brain racking for answers.
At first he thought of the potential of having a monster test subject. That is until he became aware of his thought process. "Wait...brains...Zombie?!" he gasped, now squeezing the bag so tightly in fear that some of the ruined product oozed from the bag's opening.
What was this expression slathered across the Tentacool's face. Was it pure and utter joy at the thought of organs? Had he been close to weeping at not having those lovely body parts filling the bag he now held. Oh, how fascinating. It appeared to be disgust. He was ill, he was full of negative emotions towards the Murkrow's hopes.
This could be disappointing, as Rye had not many friends, but then again, since when had the crow needed allies. Rye had all the wandering spirits that popped from the graves to keep company with. Oh how fun it could be dodging a maleficent spirit on the attack!
While Rye amused itself with its thoughts, it would appear as if the bird was once more just staring intently at the Tentacool. The red-lenses that created the eyes of the mask forever staring.
"Zombie!?" Rye finally exclaimed behind its beak. "Why, no! I have no limbs to readily remove, nor do I spew vomit regularly. And, again, I assure you I am still on my first life." Behind the mask a face smiled in a friendly way, a way that said having some human contact that didn't involve death could be a relief. Rye crept forwards, slowly nearing the water type. The murkrow leaned over the bag of fruits, and leaned in close. Its beak just half a centimeter from the tan face of the male.
"Are you a sea monster who guards a hidden treasure?" Asked the masked figure before eyes shot up towards the red orbs surrounded by blue locks. And with red eyes came greedy hands, fingers that flashed up and gently felt the shining red mysteries.
These were not jewels Rye noticed on contact. No, they were squishy, but they glimmered none the less, and Rye still wanted them.
Whatever relief Tomei felt to know Rye was not of the dead quickly vanished as his personal space was invaded. The tentacool bit his lip as he stared into the terrifying eyes of the plague doctor mask, his own pair widening in fright as his eyebrows rose. He took a cautious half step backwards, hoping to evade being pecked in the face by Rye's mask.
His brows slightly furrowed at the bird's question. "Sea monster?" he repeated, obviously at a loss. "N-No, I'm not a monster," he assured the crow. "I'm just a farmer, with no treasure to protect, that's for sure," Tomei said, waving a hand in front of him dismissively, having to quickly catch the leaking sack as he almost dropped it during his hand gesture.
He gave a quick glance down as the fruit oozed through the bag and onto his clothing. This momentairy look away from the bird gave time for Rye to grope Tomei's jelly eyes, Tomei slightly jumping in surprise, a shiver shooting up his spine. In all honesty, it felt rather nice, like a dog being scratched behind the ears. It was a sensitive spot. He felt his knees grow slightly week and almost wanted to conform to this invasion of his personal bubble. Instead, he let out a surprised whimper. "Um...," he started quietly, looking up at the hands that blocked his other angles of vision. "Excuse me but...maybe you shouldn't touch those," Tomei advised, though secretly enjoying the feeling of his eyes being gently squished.
Rye was, of coarse, rather disappointed to hear that the man was no sea monster, and that he held no treasures. All of Rye's future dreams of seeing the man crush a ship and eat all the sailors was shot, and Rye's hopes of getting in on a gleaming horde of treasure sunk into the sea.
But all was not lost as the Murkrow continued to grope the great squishy orbs on the male's fuzzy blue head. The dark bird heard the man squeak out a protest, one pitifully suggesting that touching these beautiful shining mysteries should not be done. Why!? That was one of the most absurd things Rye had heard in a long while! Why, when these glorious red spheres were right before its eyes, would Rye not give them a stroke and squeeze!? Ridiculous, that was all that could be said about this suggestion.
"Why should I not touch these?" Cooed the Murkrow in bliss, masked gaze never leaving Tomei's great rubbery eyes. "And, dear sir, if you did not want me to fondle them, surely you would have used force by now." There had be no force behind the Tentacool's words either, only weakness, which further intrigued the bird. Why would the male be so weak? Perhaps an experiment should be conducted to solve this mystery.
Rye was gentle a few moments longer, enjoying the feel of touching something that glimmered so. "Tell me, sir, what are these?" Rye could not help but ask, and then the bird counted in its head. One Kanto, two Johto, three Hoenn, four Sinnoh, five...Unova. The bird gave the rubbery orbs a sudden squeeze, one more harsh than any of the gentle fondling from before.
Tomei bit his lip as the bird questioned his lack of physical protest. The crow had a point..if he truly disliked it, he should have pulled away. "You shouldn't touch them because they're very sensitive..I don't think you realize the effect this is causing on me," he warned, voice shy and cautious. He sniffed quietly, multiple times, as if he was trying to snort something back up his nose. His cheeks flushed pink, now becoming even more uncomfortable as he felt the hands continue to gently prod the jelly surface of his eyes. His vision was obscured by the fingerpads of the bird, Tomei able to see every line of their fingerprint. He tried to focus on this rather than the burning feeling of pleasure.
But then, a sudden tight squeeze sent Tomei's sniffles into a full on red squirt. Blood poured from his tan nostrils, the squeeze causing Tomei to cry out in surprise. He fell to his knees, both hands quickly covering his bleeding nose. Blood escaped through the crevices of his fingers, the groping obviously feeling...rather nice. An understatement.
His cheeks flushed pink, eyes wide as he became warm with embarassement. "T-They're my eyes!" Tomei finally managed, blood now dripping down his lips, as he stared up at the bird with wide eyes.
The jelly substance felt strange between Rye's fingers as they clenched around great red orbs. It was a strange feeling holding such odd things, but there was no time to describe how lovely it felt to squish something that glimmered.
Red shot from the man below, and Rye gave a shocked cry as it flailed backwards, away from the flowing scarlet. Eyes were stretched wide beneath the mask, mouth gaping, as the Murkrow stared at the Tentacool. Between the man's fingers ran blood, hot red blood, and Rye's black-feathered heart squirmed with some mixture of excitement and fear.
On one thread of thought, Rye found this exhilarating. Blood was always spewing in horror flicks. Blood on the walls, on the floor, flooding from wounds or severed heads.
On the other hand, this was frightening. The man was bleeding, and Rye was the cause. The bird had harmed an innocent fellow, and what if he died? Well, obviously Rye would bury him, but that was beside the point.
Those thoughts ran in the mere seconds it took the Murkrow to recoil, for the next second the masked figure dived forwards, falling on hand and knee before the man. From its pale neck it tore away the warm scarf, shoving it forwards with one hand, as the other pulled the rest of its coat to cover the exposed neck.
"Y-Your eyes!?" Exclaimed Rye, having what seemed like a proper reaction for once. "Your eyes are amazing!" Or not quite the right reaction. "Did I harm you, did it hurt?" Question after question, and with each the bird nudged a little forwards, finally noticing the flushed face of the male. "Did it feel fantastic? Did you love it?" There was a wide grin below the mask as the bird kept the offered scarf out for the man to use.
The purple tinted blood oozed on, falling to the ground below and onto Tomei's lap. A faint sizzling sound could be heard as it burned through his clothes, leaving tiny holes where the posion had burned through. Luckily, it had no effect touching his skin beneath. Tomei didn't seem to notice, now falling slightly backwards as the crow fell to the same plane. His tentacles held his back above the ground, his arms occupied in covering his nose.
Tomei watched as the bird removed its dark scarf, offering it to stifle the blood flow. A tentacle slowly withered forward, gently taking the cloth from the crow's offering hand.
He looked down at it guiltly, knowing he'd probably ruin and stain it with his blood. Little did he know the crow would probably like the enhancement to their clothing. Bloody stains, totally chique. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice muffled by his hands. He quickly shifted, his bloody hands now holding him up, the scarf brought to his streaming nose by his blue dreads. The blood flow seemed to slow in pace, thankfully.
Just as Tomei's heart began to pound at a normal rate, his body becoming less tense, the bird exclaimed a million questions at once. His shoulders tensed up, eyes growing wide in bewilderment as he was interrigated. "I-uh-wait-no," he whimpered, becoming slightly confused and flustered. The bird seemed to be closer and closer with each question, practically in his lap, though this was probably just an illusion caused by his flustered brain. The crow pressed on, his blush becoming more and more intense as it asked if he liked the touch, rather the grope, the rape of his eyes!
"I-It was nice, alright, I admit it!" he cried out, the warmth in his cheeks so hot, it was if they were on fire. He wiped nervous beads of sweat from his forehead with one of his bloody hands, causing the crimison goo to smear across his tan skin. This was a terrible way to meet someone..
The scarf was accepted, and Rye watched it greedily, eyes flashing and watching the dark fabric absorb the purple-tinted blood. Purple-tinted? Oh, things always got so exciting with this man! Who, in the wide world, had such a fantastic color of blood? A shiver crawled up Rye's spine like a Spinarak about to devour its helpless prey as the bird pondered the topic.
Oh, and wait! The tan man speaks! If it were possible for the Murkrow to perk its ears, it would, as it wanted to pick up ever syllable, every letter, of the man's reply. Did it hurt? Oh, it must have hurt! It must have been a wretched pain! Why was Rye so excited about this? It actually dampened the thrill as this thought came by. Pain was never very fun.
The dark bird should apologize, say it was sorry for this horrendo-----Ooooh! Oh ho ho ho HO! It was nice, said the man whose face deepened in color every few moments! Was it at all possible for the male to get so red that he would become as shiny as his eyes? The things Rye would do if it would make this man shimmer like those orbs upon his head!
"It was nice?" Rye repeated, its beak pressed to a soft tan cheek, red eyes slipping up to look at the blood smear before sliding back down to look into the male's equally red eyes. "Surely it was better than that, fine sir. Your cheeks are like a fire!"
And with those words, Rye hopped back to its feet, popping straight up and away. Only to dive forwards again, gripping the shirt of the bleeding, and blushing, man.
"Come!" Came the muffled cry of the crow. "Come, come!" Continued the crowing. "You can't sit outside like this! Look, I have harmed you in a way. A good way," cooed the Murkow, a devious smirk beneath the mask.
"Come, enter my abode, fine fellow. I shall amuse you this night. You can clean up, scrub your shirt." The bird gave a tug towards the small two story home shrouded in fog. "We shall watch my favorite film." It gave halt to its pulling, head turning towards the Tentacool more, glass lenses staring into the man's soul.
"Do you know why it is my favorite movie?" Quorked the masked figure. "It is because the murderer is a Murkrow." A haunting chuckle could be heard from behind the beak, the tugging beginning once more.
"Ehhh, ehhhhhh!" Tomei replied, as the bird leaned in further, its beak pressing into his flesh. "It was just nice, okay," he assured, wishing so desperately that his cheeks would return to their normal tan color, rather than that pinkish rose. His dread dropped, bloody scarf in tow. He gave a final sniff, his nose letting up. The scarf was rather damp with his bodily fluid, Tomei glancing down sadly at the ruined scarf before looking back up at the crow.
His brows furrowed in a confused manner, not quite getting how the bird could harm in a good way. He was tugged up by the front of his shirt, the overzealous bird describing how their night should go. Tomei looked off towards the house the figure pointed too. He gulped heavily, looking back at the bird as if he'd rather not, fear obvious on the man's face. It looked haunted...more than spooky. "In there?" he asked cautiously. Glass lenses stared down into his own, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He wondered if it would be wise to go against the creepy figure's wishes.
As he was pulled toward the house, Tomei glanced about for means of escape. His eyes bounced from grave to grave in a paranoid spazzum. Each grave seemed to near closer with each gaze, Tomei wondering if each marker were victims of the bird. "Wait...Wait!" Tomei cried out in protest, practically becoming a prisoner of the crow. "Your favorite movie is what?!" he squealed, eyes growing wider as the house drew nearer. Were those ghosts he saw in the windows? Monsters crawling past the front door? His mind imagined every horror that the house may contain, the structure becoming rather looming as the enthusastic bird dragged him closer. His neck craned back slightly, eyes wide and frightened as he observed the building. "A-Are you sure you want guests at this time of night?" Tomei questioned, hoping to be able to escape at the point of politeness.
Nearer and nearer the two approached the the ancient home, and indeed, it was old and in poor repair. Only the windows had fresh glass on them, although lonely shards of previous windows still scattered some of the earth below. The cobble stone path, however, was clear of any dust and debris, Rye having swept at it day after day in wait for business.
The moon hung just above the curling roof shingles, telling the two figures that the night was still young, that were was much left to do in the hours to come. Small winds from the sea drove by, playing in the swirling haze, banging on the antique shutters that clung to their windows, some by single hinges.
Closer and closer did the bird drag the Tentacool before he allowed a slight halt at the tan man's words. Slowly, dreadfully slow, horrendously drainingly slow, the bird cocked its head. What an odd question. Such an odd question! Why, who did not drag fellows into their homes at this hour of the night? Certainly everyone was not sleeping now! Oh, wait. Yes, yes, of course everyone was in slumber, the Murkrow thought to itself. Not everyone had dark circles around their eyes as Rye did, but not anyone got to see its eyes anyway.
"Why, sir, it is polite of you to worry. I assure you, nothing would please me more than to have you over," Rye's head straightened back up. "On that wall perhaps..." The bird muttered this last word, considering which wall had space for the man's glorious head.
Rye seemed to think nine, no, ten seconds more before it gave a cry, "Now, get inside, please!" The shadow bird gave a twist of an old rusty knob, a screech howling from the turn, and flung the door open. The Murkrow released the man, only to flit around to his behind. Three seconds passed, enough time to give get the man a little worried, before the Murkrow gave an almighty shove! "In you go, fine sir!"
Th figure cackled and twisted and twirled behind the shoved man, following into the home.
It was a fairly clean home, and rather normal if one ignored the threat of splints from the wooden floor, if one forgot the fact that the long staircase straight ahead had curling steps and rusty nails. The stairs were along the left wall, and to the right was a single door, chipped paint crying to be peeled off.
A pale hand coiled along the shoulder of the Tentacool, and once on tip toe, the Murkrow could lean over and up next to the man's face. The masked figure pointed, its free hand showing the way the bird would like for the man to go. "There, gentle sir. The restroom is just up those steps to the left. Oh, you would not miss it."
The other detail in the home that could not be missed were the walls. The ones around the entrance all help a collection of shiny things. One wall was all shimmering candy wrappers, the other filled with various shiny objects, the only wall not covered with something the glimmered was the wall along the stairs. There only three pictures decorated the surface. One was an oval portrait of a lovely Hoothoot woman, the next a loving picture of a sweet couple, this one included the Hoothoot woman as well. The third oval portait held the man from the second picture.
"A warning, however," said the Murkrow, taking the time to whisper. "Sometimes spirits of the dead float these halls." It laughed as it swept back from the man before darting forwards and through the door to the right. The door closing, leaving the Tentacool on his own.
Oh, but don't think Rye is the forgetful sort! Oh no, quite the opposite. The front door, the only entrance, was closed and locked, inside and out.