70. [DREAM/DREAM/DREAM/DREAM]

[foolishwren]

[So while the rest of Johto alternately panics, cries, or rushes around trying to capture as many of the soulstealing insects as possible, there are dozens of souls floating around in that dream limbo, drifting in and out of each other's slumbering thoughts and visions. Whether it's nightmarish flashbacks or just those dreams where you're at school

Comments

[northerncrosses]

[ sheryl's always had good intuition when it comes to things that doesn't seem normal. for example, that door she's been staring at for quite some time now.

but having gone through several different dreams -- one, even, where she almost (just almost!) drowned in a sea of stuffed animals -- this one should have been less strange. the stench and the sounds behind it is familiar enough for someone who had lived all her life on galaxy; metal and industry and progress. except for that note written on it, one that is enough to send a cold shiver down her spine.

still, it's a way out, something she'd been searching for a while now since she's entered this place. ]

It's just a door. There's nothing to be afraid of it.

[foolishwren]

[It's never the door that's the danger. It's whatever's behind it.]

[Which, in Sheryl's case, is drifting fog. The place she'll be stepping into should she choose to open the door, is a town. Or a town center, rather-- it's a quaint, New England-style place. It's a place that should be bustling with tourists, even on a gray, foggy day like it is.]

[But there's not hide nor hair of anybody... just a foggy town center, with all its little cafes and mom-and-pop shops closed, dark-windowed. The pavement of the roads that sprawl out in all directions from the little square is all cracked, and there's old garbage strewn everywhere. A few cars are sitting around, but they're covered in rust... like they've been there for years.]

[But hey, there's streets, and where there's streets, there's paths to take...]

[northerncrosses]

[ another unfamiliar place.

sheryl sighs loudly, holding a hand to her head. this is simply getting out of hand, always finding herself in different dreams one after the other. this one, however, she doesn't like the look of. in fact, several warning bells are already ringing in her head, telling her to just stop and turn around.

she looks around, noting the lack of people -- or any kind of life actually -- around, adding to the eeriness of the place. and the fog itself isn't helping either. quelling the rising apprehension inside her chest, she takes a step then another, her heels clicking against concrete.

pausing near the opening of one of the streets . . . ]

Hello? [ she calls out tentatively. just in case that someone answers her anyway. ]

[foolishwren]

[Her voice falls oddly flat against the silence... like the quiet itself is actively dampening any actual noises made, as though it were a mute in a trumpet. The same goes for her footfalls... the sound of them meeting the asphalt is deadened. There are no replies. Not even an echo.]

[... But there is a phone booth! Several, actually-- standing on the corner of the sidewalk, looking just as old and unused as everything else about this place...]

[Should Sheryl investigate, all she'll get from them is an endless dial tone. It would seem that they're out of order... but... should she turn to walk away, a piercing ring will shatter the silence in a way that not even her own voice had-- bouncing off the buildings with such resonance it's almost a little painful.]

[Yeah... one of the out-of-order phones is going off.]

[northerncrosses]

[ sheryl indeed notices the phone booths but she pays no mind to them. she doesn't think they're of much importance at the moment and given her surroundings, she's expecting it to be out of order anyway.

as she walks away however, the shrill ringing of one of the phones makes her jump and slowly, carefully turns around. she can hear her blood loudly pounding in her head, almost drowning out the sound of the ringing.

almost.

hesitantly, she walks over to the ringing phone, lifting the handset and staring at it. ]

What the -- [ she presses it against her ear, frowning. ] Hello?

[foolishwren]

[For the first couple of seconds, there's nothing on the other end-- but then someone speaks. The voice is nasal, unpleasantly high-pitched, and male. It starts with a snigger... and then launches into a mirth-filled singsong.]

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to yooouuUUuu...

Happy biiirthday, dear...

[A pause, and then a laugh that holds a deliberately-exaggerated mockery of sheepishness.]

Oh dear... I've forgotten your name again.

[northerncrosses]

[ sheryl almost lets out a scream upon hearing the voice but instead simply drops the receiver, taking a step back from it, a hand over her mouth. she can still hear the voice even from a few feet away, holding that mocking tone. ]

Wha -- What the heck was that?

[foolishwren]

[The phone swings on its cord and whacks a couple of times against the booth it's hanging from. The voice on the other end seems to find this incredibly amusing, because it laughs.]

Aw... I didn't scare you, did I?

[northerncrosses]

[ sheryl would have walked away, thinking that the line was simply being stupid and she shouldn't waste her time.

she really would have.

if she didn't hear that mocking voice over the phone line. infuriated over the voice, she storms over back to the booth, grabs the handset and starts her tirade. ]

That's not even funny, you jerk! If this is a prank call, I'm not falling for it again!

[foolishwren]

[Oh boy! Here we go.]

[She may be fairly unhappy with the voice's response, which is to start laughing again. It's an unpleasant, nasal sound-- like an overly-stereotypical nerd watching a Monty Python marathon.]

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Didn't mean to be ruuude.

I just wanted to wish you a happy thirty-fourth birthday! ... Or is it fortieth? I always get so confused...

[northerncrosses]

[ even without the person (if there really IS one there) seeing, she rolls her eyes anyway. ]

Ha-ha. [ sarcastically put. ] You need to try harder than that.

[foolishwren]

Harder? Whatever do you mean?

[... the voice replies innocently. Then it pauses for a second... before laughing.]

OH, that's right, I remember that name you went by, now.

They named you Cheryl.

[northerncrosses]

[ she almost drops the phone again.

almost.

but if that person (or someone else) were there, they will see the horrified expression on sheryl's face. how did he know? sure it isn't how her name is pronounced but it's close enough. close enough for her to know that this isn't a joke at all.

despite her hand shaking, she calms herself down and makes sure that her voice stays emotionless as ever. ]

Who is this? Who am I talking to?

[foolishwren]

[Definitely not a joke. ... Or if it is... it's not a very nice one. The voice takes on a simpering tone.]

You don't remember me? Oh, I'm hurt... that really hurts me.

[northerncrosses]

[ another eyeroll. ]

I sure don't remember meeting anyone as rude as you.

[foolishwren]

Oh, don't be like that, honeybunch.

I was just calling to help you celebrate!