Mask

NO!

NO.

No.

no...

This can't be how I die. Alone, stuck in an old coffin, my soul siphoned out by a vengeful spirit. Pokémon food. Slowly being wrapped in bandages until I suffocate.

I was supposed to go out on a fun little trip around the region. Bond with friends. Collect the badges, return home. All kids go around the circuit my age, and I'm the unlucky guy to never be able to return home.

The sandstorm buffets the ruined castle outside, impossible to pass through. Nobody could find me, not even the rangers. The bandages have covered my legs.

I'm feeling drowsy. I can't even lift my head, much less try to get out. I hear voices calling for me, but it's just my imagination. The ghost is messing with my head. I can't move my arms anymore.

Well, maybe I'll be famous after death. Maybe some archeological study will find me. Maybe I'll be a case study on how ghost Pokémon feed. They've gotten up to my neck.

My mouth.

I can't breathe.

I can't see.

I can't feel.

I can't think.

I can't...

i...

--------------

I can think.

I can feel.

I can see.

It's all different. I'm not myself. I don't know who myself was.

The ever-shifting void of sand has claimed me.

I'm just an imitation of my former self, wearing a mask.