SilverBlaze09
Toast
Pokemon Adventurers: Beginner's Luck
Chapter One-Night Flight
Chapter Two-Holy Sweet Elite
Chapter Three-Of Snakes and Food
Chapter Four-Shopping, Plotting and Creaming
Chapter Five-The Fields of Viridian
Rating: PG-13 For violence and all that. Take it seriously.
Inspiration for this chapter came from: All you 'good' reviewers that so dislike 'traditional' opening chapters involving late risings and fun but uber starting Pokemon. Credit also goes to my writer's block, which prevented upwards of fifty previous stories from ever making it past the first chapter and thus inspired this work of art, which blows right through.
I wasn't really upset about that. I mean, I felt a little excited over the prospect of catching my own Pokemon, but there were several reasons for leaving these little guys alone.
First and foremost was the part where I really didn't want to interrupt their fun and my studying just so I could capture one, possibly two Pokemon. I mean, there were always at least one Pokemon out of ten that attack you with the sole purpose of battling you, capture or victory their aim. Why bother going for a coupla Pokemon when I was sure that I'd probably get a chance to take some other Rattata or Caterpie that actually WANTED to get caught, or at least was ready for it.
Another reason was that I didn't want to train Pokemon that wouldn't live very long. Even with the extension of their life spans brought on by the genetic alterations incurred by the capture gases used in pokeballs, Bug Pokemon and Rattata still only lived four or five years, with the minor exception of some of the nastier Bug-types, like Scyther and Pinsir, or the Bugs crossed with one of the 'indestructible' types, like Forretress or Shedinja, with the latter having no end to its life span yet recorded. I wasn't about to expend the time and energy to capture something that would live for only a few years when I was planning to train for the rest of my life. Who wants to go through the trouble and pain of having to train a new Pokemon every few years?
The biggest reason, of course, was that, like most other new Trainers, I had already planned out my team. I knew that it would probably change, like most things do, depending on my whims and the current state of the competition, but I wanted to keep as close as possible to my plan.
First and foremost, I had chosen Charmander, a Fire-type Pokemon that evolves into the Flying-Fire dragon Charizard. One of the more powerful types, I knew I could easily capture at least one of the other Pokemon for my team with it and defeat several Gym Leaders, if I found a way to move around the different Regions and I could avoid Water-type Trainers.
The next Pokemon I wanted to catch was Exeggcute, a Psychic/Grass cross that could evolve into the devastatingly powerful Exeggutor, a tree-like Pokemon with three heads that had been known to destroy small towns when under the guidance of even an inexperienced Trainer.
After I caught Exeggcute, the logical next step would be to capture a Water-type. My preference was a Seel, Poliwag or Lapras, as their final forms were large enough to carry my five-foot-eleven, hundred-thirty-nine-pound body across the various large bodies of water that populate the Region area and had good secondary types, Ice being great against the Grass-type, the favored anti-Water-type, and Fighting being just a good all-around type.
After that and after I acquired Surf and the Soul Badge, property of Koga, the ninja Leader of the Fuchsia City Gym, I would be able to travel to Johto across the small bay between Pallet Town and New Bark Town or, depending on the level of my Surfer, I could even head off to Hoenn or Orre or my home Region, the Sevii Islands. My plan, however, called for making a stop in Johto to acquire a Piloswine or a Steelix, depending on the type of Water Pokemon I captured, then heading off to Hoenn to round out my team with a Kecleon, the Normal-type being a good Swiss Army Knife attack-wise, and a Sableye, the wonder Ghost/Dark Pokemon that has no weaknesses type-wise.
Of course, this team depended on Charmander evolving into Charizard, which, if he didn't want to, could be changed in a second. I had several alternate teams already planned out, but, being the rather reckless, footloose character I am, I wasn't even sure I wanted to operate with a planned-out team. After all, the Poison-type, even though it was only on one of my lists, was a fun type to watch on TV, and the all-around-weak Electric-type was, although lousy defensively, a powerhouse when it got rolling, with such Pokemon as Raichu, which could launch roughly a hundred thousand volts of power at a whim, Magneton, which was known to down a city's power just by being there, and Manectric, which could get so powerful that it would be continually trailed by thunderstorms.
So, as of my first day of Pokemon Training, I had some idea of what I was going to do and little idea of how to do it. But that didn't matter, because I was part of the greater corporate identity known as the Pokemon League.
And that, as I studied my Trainer's Handbook, was impressive in itself.
I looked up briefly as Flash growled in pain, then returned my attention to my book when I noticed that he had just bumped his nose on the Caterpie's head and had already returned to helping the little caterpillar chase the Rattata around. I turned the page and found myself suddenly stumbling on an innocuously-titled chapter: Cautionary Preventative Steps to Prevent Permanent Injury to Yourself and Your Pokemon from Wild Pokemon.
Now, the mere fact that wild Pokemon would consciously maim a Trainer’s Pokemon was a shock in itself, but a Trainer? I began reading intently to see if they meant accidental injury, like a freak Thunderbolt being loosed in the wrong direction or a Rock Throw starting an avalanche. As I read into how many deaths and injuries wild Pokemon purposely inflicted on Trainers and their Pokemon, I found myself entering into a place that many people wake up to every day: the Real World.
During my first eighteen years, I had been duped into believing that Pokemon Training was a bed of roses. Oh, sure, I’d known that I’d have to work hard to help my Pokemon become more powerful, and I had known since watching my first Pokemon Battle on the Arena Channel that Trainers and Pokemon would both be tested physically and mentally during battle. I had even known that many Pokemon prey on other Pokemon, but it was academic to me: a mental and not emotional realization that predators have to eat meat because they are predators.
But as I read on into the death statistics and the maimings and the disappearances, many of which were extremely violent, something inside me clicked on. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I could tell what its purpose was. It was there to help me survive in this brand-new world and it was just inputting its first information: death does not always come through age alone. As my eyes glazed over the pages I was reading, I realized that I had even read of this reaction before. The ‘Survival Instinct’, many Trainers who had clawed their way to the top of the stack had called it. A little consciousness inside the consciousness that was always trying to keep the parent consciousness and, by extension, the body that it was in capable of supporting its further existence.
Flash growled again, this time in a playful manner, and I jerked involuntarily, snapping my head around to see him, the Caterpie and one of the Rattata tickling the other Rattata and all four giggling hysterically. I was about to yell for Flash to get away, they were wild Pokemon that could kill him, but then another consciousness awoke: common sense informed me quite rudely that it was doubtful any of the three Wilders, as I mentally labeled them, could take Flash on and win, whether singly or as a group. Fire is naturally dangerous to Bug-types, and the two Rattata didn’t look near as prepared for battle as Flash, who had grown up being instructed in an environment that prepared him for the sole purpose of being a beginning Trainer’s first Pokemon and probably that Trainer’s powerhouse. Not only that, but common sense also directed my eyes to Flash’s fangs. He was a predator, unlike the herbivore Caterpie or the omnivorous, but mainly herbivorous, Rattata, and was more likely to eat them than they were to kill him.
I settled down at that, returning to my book even as I cursed myself for being so jumpy and silently thanking Lance Toshiba, the Kanto Elite Four Champion who, eleven years before, had altered the Trainer Minimum Age from ten to fifteen. If I had been a ten-year-old and had read that chapter, I would have probably run off screaming and gotten myself eaten.
Actually, considering how I was at ten, I probably wouldn’t have even read the Handbook and gotten myself eaten the third day out of Pallet. Maturity, even five extra years, is a wonderful thing.
As I settled back into the book, reading through the various precautions to be taken when traveling through forests and other wild, virtually untouched areas, the idea slowly began developing in my mind that, even though dangerous, an excursion into some of the tamer wild areas would be a good chance for a little extra training or capturing a more powerful Pokemon for the team. So the idea was already in my head when I got into the section about training in wild parts of the Regions, which began going into detail on the unknown status of so many of them. Perhaps, a small voice echoed in my head, when Flash was stronger and I knew a little more...
Then I noticed, abruptly and unhappily, that it was getting dark. And I was still a couple miles away from even the Viridian Plain, where Viridian City was located.
To set the proper context, I had just finished reading the equivalent of a spooky book. And it was getting dark.
Whee is an understatement.
“Flash!” I slid down from my rock and looked around for the little orange lizard, locating the burning light of his tail hiding behind a tree in the slowly-but-surely gathering gloom. “Time to go!”
The lizard slumped out from behind the tree, making a complaining noise that was echoed by his three playmates and a new player, a Hoothoot that hopped out from a small hole in the tree above Flash. I sighed and waved for Flash to hurry.
“Hurry up, Flash, it’s late and we’re still a couple hours away from Viridian City and the Pokemon Center.” The thought of the free bed and meal was attractive, to say nothing of the safety of four walls around me. It would take something really determined to break through the walls of a PC, which were rated to withstand everything from a Charizard’s fire to a Gyarados’ thrashing to a Nidoking’s Hyper Beam. And the only predatory Pokemon around these parts were all Bug-, Normal- and Poison-types, which meant that they weren’t much of a threat to a city watched over by the powerful Giovanni Landers, Root Admin of the deadly Team Rocket, masterful strategist and unarguably the most powerful Ground-type Trainer in the world, and home to the Headquarters for not only Team Rocket, but also the Headquarters of the Mercenary Teams Sting and Bloodsport and the Fan Team Karl’s Heroes and secondary bases and recruitment centers for more Teams than you could shake a stick at.
All in all, it was the safest place in the world that night. And here it was, roughly thirty minutes until dark, and I was still a few hours from leaving the Wild and entering the safety of domesticated Civilization.
Flash, however, didn’t quite see it that way. He looked first at the sun, then north in the direction of Viridian City and south in the direction of Pallet Town, which was already three hours behind us. He then turned his gaze to me and shook his head, making a strangely serious sound for something of such a cute appearance while pointing toward a dell formed by several hills dropping abruptly down for roughly fifteen feet a few dozen yards to the west of our position. I cocked my head and thought it over, then figured out that he wanted to make camp in the dell and shook my head.
“No, let’s try to get to Viridian City.” Trying to exert some sort of emotional sway over him, I said, in a tone not a little discouraged, “Everybody else who started today is probably there already.”
Flash grinned and waved for me to follow him, then, with the Rattata and Caterpie scampering around ahead of him, trotted toward the valley.
I was about ready to give up and recall him when a new thought hit me: look it over seriously, deliberate fairly on the location, then say no and make a break for Viridian City, having shown myself to be fair and intelligent and very hungry. With that in mind, I hefted my sleeping roll onto my shoulders and stuffed my book into the pocket of my pants before striding along behind Flash, determined not to be swayed by any emotional appeal.
My emotions weren’t what was appealed to, though, as I found out to my rapidly-drooping spirits. For starters, the dell was situated so that there was only one steep entrance from the top, with the trees and assorted brush blocking all access from the less violently-steep valleys formed by the gently rolling hills around and the steep walls lined at the bottom by the sharp, pointy plants preventing entry from that angle. The entrance itself, as I discovered the fun way, was lined with razor-sharp thorns and wild rose bushes, not to mention the fact that the ceiling of the tunnel was so low near the bottom of the trail that I had to crawl on all fours and even Flash, two foot something that he was, had to stoop slightly to go through.
When I emerged from the tunnel, I found myself in what had to be the inspiration for all of May-May Clionne's journey novels. The trees that lined the edges of the dell had grown in such a way that their leaf-lined branches formed a slight roof, through which the late-late-afternoon light filtered through in a way that somehow lit the entire area without throwing much of a shadow. A tiny bubbling brook ran right through the middle of the clearing, which was populated by grass and dotted with several patches of dirt showing where previous occupants had worn the grass out. There were even small piles of charcoaled sticks showing where previous Trainers had made small fires for cooking and warmth. The Rattata, Caterpie and Hoothoot immediately began running around in a berserk fashion, playing that Tag/Football thing they'd been playing before.
I couldn't find anything to dislike about the spot, much to my irritation. I wanted out of the cold, out of the elements and away from the dangerous predators. I was about to veto the camping site when my 'irritation' factor suddenly swapped angles after realizing something very, very, VERY irritating was happening.
I was letting my emotions get twisted by a book that was probably written by a big, fat, overly lazy creature way back in a warm office.
THAT officially switched my opinions around, 'cause if there's one thing I HATE, it's being manipulated, whether intentionally or unintentionally, by somebody else. I'd camp in that spot all night and ENJOY it if it killed me, which was doubtful.
The thought of the rumored packs of Houndour and Houndoom flickered into my mind, but my irritation, which was rapidly transferring into anger, at the fear-mongering that I'd been playing on myself via a chapter in a book, simply transferred itself into an oath that I'd kill them if they got me out of my bed in the middle of the night.
Or at least make it more trouble than I was worth to eat me.
While I was thinking all this through and sucking on my bleeding fingertips, Flash trotted around the perimeter of the clearing, which was rapidly darkening as the sun went down, before trotting up to me and tapping my thigh with one claw. When I looked down, he pointed at the sleeping roll slung across my chest from hip to shoulder and then at a clear spot on one side of the brook that was worn in almost a perfect rectangle. Previous sleepers enjoying a good spot, I decided, and moved over there, removing my roll from my back and untying the twine holding it together before flipping it out and setting it down, neatly lining it up with the edges of the worn spot. When I finished, I looked it over and decided that that spot was, in fact, a previous resting spot for people, as it was perfectly proportioned to my bedroll.
Flash, meanwhile, had skipped off to play with his friends and I decided to leave him at it while I picked up firewood. Looking around, the feeling that this was the best spot to be camping in for miles around continued building in me. Dead branches littered the ground, many of them either small branches suitable for my needs or larger branches that could be easily broken into smaller pieces to resize them for a fire. There were scores of tiny dead branches from the brush as well, providing perfect kindling, and I sure didn't need a lighter or matches as long as I had Flash and his flame-tipped tail.
Quickly gathering enough brushwood and branches for a fairly decent fire, I plopped them next to a charred spot and, flopping down, built a small pyramidal structure in the gloom of the final rays of the sun and the early twinkling of the stars and a new moon. When finished, I could only see that I was done by the reflected firelight of Flash's tail swinging around. Looking around, I spotted him and the two Rattata having a race between the Hoothoot and the Caterpie. I waited until the race was over, which he lost handily to both the Rattata, then whistled to catch his attention and waved him over.
"Hey, Flash, gotta light?"
He nodded and merrily skipped over, carefully avoiding the brook by jumping as far as possible from a running start. When he reached the little pile of wood, he brought his tail out in front of him and, holding the tail firmly between his paws, blew on the live flame that was attached to the tip of it. Embers began scattering wildly, then several lit on some of the dry grass I had placed underneath the wood and started them to burning, at which Flash stepped back and watched contentedly as the flames began rising.
I watched the fire for a coupla minutes as well, then my stomach made a sound like somebody spitting and I rummaged through my left pants pocket before pulling out a nutrient bar and a piece of steak wrapped in plastic that I'd brought along for Flash. Unwrapping the meat, I offered it to the Charmander, who grinned toothily before practically inhaling the food, almost taking the tips of my finger off in the process. I threw him a dubious look as I shook my hand to get the tingling of near-death experience out of it, then turned my attention to my own food and began tearing into it with an appetite that hadn't had a thing since roughly two-thirty, when I'd had a light snack consisting of three apples and four pickle-ketchup-mustard-cheese sandwiches.
As I inhaled my own food at least as fast as Flash had done his, I watched the little fire lizard returning to the game of Catch-Me-and-Tackle-Me-In-Teams-That-Don't-Stay-The-Same and, like most people who end up sitting in an almost romantic setting eating a PokEnergy bar for his supper, began reflecting on the world and ways to enjoy it quietly.
For roughly five seconds.
There was a sudden 'whoosh' of air above me and then a 'huff' of exhaled air, heralding the arrival of a female wearing nothing but black, ninja outfit and fancy masquerade-style mask and all.
I, being the guy who's always on top of things that I am, gave a startled 'yip' as I flopped onto my back, where I immediately slapped my palms flat to the ground and flipped to my feet, landing with my hands in front of me in case she tried any funny business.
Flash wasn't too far behind me, leaping over the brook and landing on all fours next to me before raising himself to his full height and baring his teeth at the girl.
We stood there for a moment, the girl on one side calmly watching our antics as if they were amusing and we on the other watching her carefully, intently watching her every move in case she was going to attack. After a moment of that, the girl smiled slightly and, crossing her arms in front of her and revealing two Spinarak clutching her armbands, bowed, her neck-length black hair shifting with her ghostly motion like something that had a mind of its own.
"This night is heralded by the smoke of your fire, young Trainer." Straightening up, she stretched comfortably, arms above her head and flipping the Spinarak around so that they were back-to-back. “The dark hunters are out and about. I suggest you prepare yourself with containers of water to douse their fire and kicks and punches to send them running.” Suddenly dropping into a crouch, she backflipped onto a tree branch overhead, where she paused briefly and looked at me coyly. “Show no fear, young Trainer. They can sense it and it draws them.” With that remarkably reassuring remark, she was gone, leaving a clearing that was suddenly very quiet except for the fearful whimpering of the little wild Pokemon and the nervous rustle of the Hoothoot rapidly trading feet several times.
I clenched my fists and looked down at Flash, who stared up at me determinedly, albeit with a slight tremor in his lower jaw. Not wanting to frighten the Pokemon any further, I quirked a grin on one side of my mouth and straightened up, letting my hands fall to my sides.
“I don’t suppose she was referring to the IRS, huh?”
Flash looked puzzled for a moment, then enlightenment broke across his face and he chortled for a bit, until the Hoothoot abruptly began hooting in a fashion that is best known as ‘panicked’. Snapping my gaze toward it, I was almost struck by its panicked flight from whatever was chasing it. Ducking beneath it, I was then almost bowled over by the white streak that was flashing along after it.
Operative word, of course, being ‘almost’.
My feet held their places beneath the initial assault, allowing me to get my hands up just as a set of the nastiest teeth I’d ever seen came for my throat. Wrapping my hands around the upper and lower jaws, I spun and flung the Persian, as the jeweled forehead revealed it to be, into the side of a tree, causing it to yowl painfully. I winced at the sound, remembering the strange girl’s admonishment about the dark hunters, undoubtedly Houndoom and/or Houndour, being in the area and prowling about, then the cat rose to its feet, glowering darkly at me and growling angrily. Flash interposed himself between us, growling nastily at the cat and having the favor returned. The Persian slowly got to its feet, allowing me to see its ribs so plainly that I could have counted them all if time had permitted.
But the cat had little patience for visual inspection by a human, as evinced by its rapidly dropping to its haunches and then leaping from that position, heading right for me in a wounded fury. It hit me in the chest before I could duck, knocking me back into the brook before we bounced back in a roiling, tearing, heaving mass of fur, claws and muscle. Just as I managed to hit its head with a rock that I hastily grabbed from the edge of a tree and roll on top of it, wrapping my fingers around its throat in a desperate to subdue it before it did so to me, it disappeared from under me. I collapsed into a roll and came up in a crouch, seeing my handbook teetering over the edge of the brook’s embankment, an empty PokEnergy bar wrapper and a line of five pokeballs, with the fifth one wriggling back and forth wildly. Even as I watched, awestruck and still slightly dizzy from my rolling around, the pokeball stopped wiggling and the red top half went transparent, revealing a glowering Persian staring up at me. I blinked a coupla times, then looked at Flash, whose face mirrored my stupefied shock.
“This is SO not the way I envisioned catching my first Pokemon.”
He nodded, slowly shuffling over to the handbook and carefully flipping it back onto the dry ground just as it began sliding into the brook. We both stared at it for a second, our brains slowly catching up with what had happened, then I shook my head and, stretching out on one hand and a knee, plucked the Persian’s pokeball up from where it was lying, causing a whimper to emanate from a bush along the rim. Snapping around in preparation for attack, the most threatening thing I noticed was that the Caterpie, in its species’ response to fear, had released what had to be the most vile stench I’d ever had crawl up and hook my nostrils in advance of ripping them out of my head. Grinning, chuckling with the release of tension, I waved my left hand in front of my face while my right fingers, still holding the pokeball, covered my nose in an attempt to filter out the smell. It smelled like my pocket.
“Dude, that stinks.”
Flash began chuckling, then giggling, then he broke into laughter, my voice adding to the din as the rest of our little group began releasing the tension that had built up through laughter.
“Oooooowooooooo! Roooooo! Hooooooooooooowwwooooooo!”
The clearing went silent as quickly as it had broken out into laughter, the girl’s warning echoing its way into my head. ‘The dark hunters are out and about.’
We were SO dead.
But then the stress in my brain that hadn’t yet been released found a new outlet: pride and fury. I had just survived my first encounter with a Predator, capital P and large teeth, on my own. There was no way I was gonna let a few wolves stop me.
Grunting, I leaped over the brook, picking up my pokeballs and book as I went and stuffing them back into my pockets. I paused for a moment when I reached my bedroll, trading hard stares with the Persian for a moment before chucking its pokeball on the ground.
“C’mon out and join us, kitty!”
The other Pokemon all went tense again as the white cat erupted from the confines of its pokeball, landing on all fours and staring around the clearing with hate and spite in its face. When it reached my face, which was reflecting my rapidly darkening mood, it must have sensed that I was ready to take it on again if it tried anything and sat back on its haunches, its only movement after that the twitching of its ears as the wolves continued howling. Staring at it a little longer, I let my voice drip with the fury that was building up in me, fueled by my memories of the fight.
“You are hungry.” Its only reaction was to swivel its ears back to me. “You want meat. You want blood spurting between your teeth and tendrils breaking.” I had little to no idea if that was the case, but my friends in the Junior Novel Writer’s Club back home had sure thought they knew and it seemed to be working, as the words flowed from memory and began causing the cat to lick its chops. “You want your prey to wriggle in your mouth, feeling its last few drops of life slowly trickle into your mouth.” I knelt down, dropping my eyes to its level. “And I want to deal pain to those wolves. Hear them?” I cocked my head to the side, letting a dangerous grin flit across my face. “Do you think you might like a little wolf-meat?”
The cat broke into a toothy grin and got to its feet, bobbing its head in a nod that shook its entire body. Standing up, I waved it toward the entrance tunnel to the clearing.
“Have fun.”
It bounded away, disappearing into the trees faster than I could follow with my eyes, then I knelt down and began rolling up the bedroll, directing my voice toward Flash and the other Pokemon.
“Flash, we’ll be heading outta here as fast as possible and as quietly as possible.” Flipping the twine around the roll, I began tying a shoe knot. “The rest of you are welcome to come with us if you don’t already have a place to hide.”
The Hoothoot flapped its wings and took off into the sky, hooting a farewell that the rest of us responded to by squeaks, growls and waving. The Caterpie crawled up to a tree and slowly began climbing it, while the two Rattata traded looks, then dove for the bushes and disappeared. Blinking, Flash and I traded looks, then shrugged simultaneously and turned toward the entrance tunnel.
Right about then the howls, which had continued unabated since beginning, altered in pitch and a new type of howl was added to the din: pained, wounded and dying. A deadly-sounding yowl rose above the din and I quirked a half-hearted grin.
"Sounds like our friend the tooth has met the wolves." Turning to Flash, I snapped my fingers and he snapped his gaze to me. "Awright, here's the plan: we duck outta this hole and turn left. We go roughly two to three hundred yards and we come to a stream that's goes up to my shoulders and is about fifteen yards wide. We cross that and it should hold them up long enough for Tooth-'N-Claw to catch up. After that, we run like there's no tomorrow." I thought about that for a second, then shrugged. "Actually, there won't BE a tomorrow for us if we don't make it." Giving him a stern look, I shook my finger at him. "So we're gonna make it!"
Flash nodded and gave me a thumb's-up and I hefted my bedroll onto my shoulder just as something came crashing down into the clearing from the other side, thudding onto the ground and causing us both to spin toward it. We relaxed when we saw that it was just a human, although we kept an eye on him as he got to his feet and brushed his sleeves, the girl from before floating into my mind. There was a soft flapping noise and then a blue-and-purple Zubat fluttered into view, squeaking a couple times at its Trainer, who looked us over carefully.
"I don't suppose you're some big-shot League Champion, are ya?"
When he said 'League Champion', that clicked with the girl's face and I glowered darkly at the tree she had backflipped onto. "No, but you just missed one." He blinked at me and I sighed. "Onyx was here."
He chuckled and absently adjusted the straps to his backpack. "Yeah, that's what they all say." Sighing, he turned and looked at the hole in the tree cover that marked where he had come crashing through. "I suppose we're dead."
I shrugged and, kicking the fire apart, plunged the clearing into gloom before moving toward the tunnel entrance. "Follow us and we'll see if we can't survive slightly longer than today."
Dropping to my hands and knees, watching the shadows thrown by Flash's tail waver ahead of me, I crawled up the tunnel, listening to the startled noises emanating from the guy behind us as he discovered that the thorns on the bushes around us were decidedly sharp. When we emerged from the tunnel, I pulled Flash's pokeball from my vest pocket and helped him out of the tunnel, whispering in his ear that he'd probably be better off in his ball before we got to the water. He nodded and I dropped the ball on his head, causing the light from his tail to disappear and the starlight and moonlight to suddenly snap into focus. I closed my eyes and counted to twenty as the other kid slowly felt his way up, huffing slightly form the effort.
"Couldn't ya have left the light on fer another sec?" His whisper was almost inaudible in the din caused by the loud yowling and howling all around us. "It's rugged down there!"
I grinned and whacked his shoulder just enough to attract his attention before moving off toward the darker distant shadow of the water I had spotted from my rock perch before I had begun reading oh so long ago. As we moved along through what felt like the entire pack of howling, yipping and occasionally squealing wolves, I felt more than heard the other kid slowly edging ahead of me, his Zubat flashing along around us and ahead of us. I got the sneaking suspicion that he was planning on ditching me and tapped him on the shoulder, getting his attention.
"I'd better lead in case we meet my Persian out here."
He looked at me, a dark, shadowy shifting of the head, and said, in a tone that sounded rather surprised, "You've got a Persian out here?"
"Just caught it and sicced it on the wolves when I first heard them." Right on cue, a ferocious yowl rose above the din from our left. "And there he is."
"Ah."
He didn't say anything else, but he did move back behind me again. I led the way toward the water, then heard a shift in the howls and saw three pairs of eyes staring at us from straight ahead. They were low, however, so I just charged, knocking the Houndour out of the way with my knees before they could adjust to my abrupt speed-up. My flight must have been a signal to the kid to run faster, because he shot off ahead of me with his Zubat, both heading for the safety that that water represented at a speed nothing short of impressive. I flew along behind them listening as the howls began all switching to a timbre that spooked me. It was the hunting howls of the Houndour and Houndoom.
One of the howls, however, didn't change its tone. It was strange, with more power in it rather than terror, like that of the Hound family. I didn't feel the need to investigate it, however, and just kept running.
Then I tripped over the kid and the wolf standing over him, tucking my legs under and rolling through before getting to my feet and spinning around. The wolf was stirring slightly, growling fuzzily from the blow my knee had given its head. Remembering the way I had captured the Persian, I dove into my pocket and pulled a pokeball out, dropping on the Houndoom. It disappeared and I waited until the sweet-sounding 'ding' rang out before reaching down and feeling for the small sphere. When I found it, I picked it up and put in the vest pocket immediately beneath Flash's pocket, mentally labeling it as the 'Houndoom's pocket' before stooping over and shaking the guy's shoulder. He stirred slightly, then a squeak from above me brought my attention up. I spotted the fluttering form of the Zubat and waved it down.
"C'mon down and help me watch my footing while I carry your Trainer here." There was a questioning squeak and I shrugged. "Looks like a Houndoom got to him, but then I nailed it with my knee and caught it."
The Zubat squeaked again, then let loose with what had to be the loudest Screech attack I had ever heard. Slapping my hands over my ears, I looked over to see a Houndour that was approaching me stop in its tracks before suddenly vibrating into the ground. Blinking, I brought my hands down from my ears and, pulling a pokeball from my pocket, chucked it at the Houndour. There was a welcome 'ding' and, after hefting the other kid on my shoulder, wavered over and knelt down to pick up the ball, placing it in the vest pocket opposite Flash's before standing up again and following the Zubat, who flew back and forth ahead of me, keeping an ear on what was around us.
Abruptly, more feeling than hearing, I knew there was something walking along beside me. Looking down, I spotted the Persian padding along next to me, a satisfied air about it. Grinning, I reached down with my free hand and scratched it behind the ears, causing it to purr.
"Have a good supper?" It growled comfortably and I grinned. "Good." There was a howl from ahead of us and I winced. "I hate to ask you to do this right after you've eaten, but could you clear the way for us? The Zubat's a friend, by the way."
It growled and took off ahead of me, loping toward the river ahead and disappearing into the night. There was a howl again, cut off abruptly and causing even more howls to rise at its disappearance. We were so close to the water by then that I could see the reflection of the stars on the water.
Yup. That's when the second and third Houndoom I had seen that night appeared, one standing over the bleeding carcass of a Houndour and the other off to one side, both staring with deadly intent at me. I grimaced, then growled and charged, yelling things that are better off left unsaid. The two wolves abruptly jerked off to the left and right, the one on my left falling prey to the Zubat's Screech attack while the one on my right leaped at me and was in turn pounced on by my Persian. Turning around, I pulled another pokeball from my pocket and chucked it at the Houndoom while it was still engaged in a ferocious bite-and-claw fight with my Persian. The wolf disappeared and I dipped into my pocket for another pokeball, spinning toward the Zubat's opponent, who was writhing on the ground, and chucking it at him as well. There were two 'dings', one right after another, and I picked both pokeballs up and placed them in my empty lower-left vest pocket, reflecting that I was getting a rather decent collection of Dark and Fire Pokemon.
The Persian growled at me and I quirked a grin. "Fight across the river, 'kay?"
It glowered at me, but followed along as I began walking again, switching over to a run as the howls intensified behind me. Then I had to abruptly skid to a stop as the bank of the small river, as the body of water turned out to be, almost toppling over with my top-heavy load before I managed to drop the other kid behind me and fall to the ground. As I lay there for a second, trying to catch my breath, I heard a suspicious snuffling nearby and looked up into the face of yet another Houndoom. I sighed and whistled, causing it to look up at me and bare its teeth.
“Yeah, look, can’t we all just live together in peace and harmony?” It growled angrily and began advancing on me. “I guess not.”
Right on cue, the Persian dropped from a tree branch above us and began a ferocious brawl with the Houndoom, who was clearly outclassed and just as clearly determined to survive long enough to kill. Getting to my feet, I looked around and spotted the Zubat fluttering around on the other side of the river, patrolling that end to make sure there wasn’t anything that could make trouble from that end. At least, that was the comforting thought I decided to live by for the moment. I turned my head to the side so that I could speak to the Persian.
“I’m not catching that one, so go ahead and maul to your heart’s content.”
The fight picked up in intensity, if that was possible, and I reached down and picked the other kid back up onto my shoulders, removing my handbook from my pocket and stuffing it in his backpack before zipping it up again, doing the same to my pockets before turning toward the river again, the kid across my shoulders. Bracing myself for the impact, I took a step out and dropped into the icy early-Spring water, dropping in up to my waist before making contact with the bottom. Glowering, already starting to shiver from the water seeping through my pants and into my vest and shirt, I swore that I was going to personally skin any Houndoom or Houndour that made it across the water and turn it into a nice shirt as I began fording the river. It slowly got deeper as I went into it, with the center being almost chest-high before it began getting slightly shallower as I approached the opposite bank. Freezing cold though it was, I at least had the comforting thought that none of the part-Fire Hounds could make it across, at least not without being badly burned.
Chapter One-Night Flight
Chapter Two-Holy Sweet Elite
Chapter Three-Of Snakes and Food
Chapter Four-Shopping, Plotting and Creaming
Chapter Five-The Fields of Viridian
Rating: PG-13 For violence and all that. Take it seriously.
Inspiration for this chapter came from: All you 'good' reviewers that so dislike 'traditional' opening chapters involving late risings and fun but uber starting Pokemon. Credit also goes to my writer's block, which prevented upwards of fifty previous stories from ever making it past the first chapter and thus inspired this work of art, which blows right through.
THE AUTHOR RESERVES THE RIGHT TO DO ANY OR ALL OF THE FOLLOWING:
Make up weird-sounding reasons for anything he can't find facts on (example: the upcoming Shinou/Sinnoh Region and where it was before D/P came out)
Ignore your post if you flame his
Report rulebreaking posts
Insert himself into the fic whenever and/or wherever he wants
Interpret the Pokemon world any way he wants
Utilize 'generic' tools, names, Pokemon, plot, etc.
[Everything else here]
^^^^^^
Chapter One
^^^^^^
I sat on an oversized rock in the middle of the vast rolling hills north of Pallet Town on that bright April afternoon, alternately browsing through the pages of my official copy of The Trainer's Handbook and keeping an eye on Flash, my Charmander Starter, as he romped around with a coupla Rattata and a Caterpie that he had discovered cowering behind the rock I was perched on. It had taken a little doing on his part and some comfortable ignoring of them on my part, but he had finally managed to convince them that we weren't out to capture them, at which point they had begun some sort of Tag/Football crossover.Make up weird-sounding reasons for anything he can't find facts on (example: the upcoming Shinou/Sinnoh Region and where it was before D/P came out)
Ignore your post if you flame his
Report rulebreaking posts
Insert himself into the fic whenever and/or wherever he wants
Interpret the Pokemon world any way he wants
Utilize 'generic' tools, names, Pokemon, plot, etc.
[Everything else here]
^^^^^^
Chapter One
^^^^^^
I wasn't really upset about that. I mean, I felt a little excited over the prospect of catching my own Pokemon, but there were several reasons for leaving these little guys alone.
First and foremost was the part where I really didn't want to interrupt their fun and my studying just so I could capture one, possibly two Pokemon. I mean, there were always at least one Pokemon out of ten that attack you with the sole purpose of battling you, capture or victory their aim. Why bother going for a coupla Pokemon when I was sure that I'd probably get a chance to take some other Rattata or Caterpie that actually WANTED to get caught, or at least was ready for it.
Another reason was that I didn't want to train Pokemon that wouldn't live very long. Even with the extension of their life spans brought on by the genetic alterations incurred by the capture gases used in pokeballs, Bug Pokemon and Rattata still only lived four or five years, with the minor exception of some of the nastier Bug-types, like Scyther and Pinsir, or the Bugs crossed with one of the 'indestructible' types, like Forretress or Shedinja, with the latter having no end to its life span yet recorded. I wasn't about to expend the time and energy to capture something that would live for only a few years when I was planning to train for the rest of my life. Who wants to go through the trouble and pain of having to train a new Pokemon every few years?
The biggest reason, of course, was that, like most other new Trainers, I had already planned out my team. I knew that it would probably change, like most things do, depending on my whims and the current state of the competition, but I wanted to keep as close as possible to my plan.
First and foremost, I had chosen Charmander, a Fire-type Pokemon that evolves into the Flying-Fire dragon Charizard. One of the more powerful types, I knew I could easily capture at least one of the other Pokemon for my team with it and defeat several Gym Leaders, if I found a way to move around the different Regions and I could avoid Water-type Trainers.
The next Pokemon I wanted to catch was Exeggcute, a Psychic/Grass cross that could evolve into the devastatingly powerful Exeggutor, a tree-like Pokemon with three heads that had been known to destroy small towns when under the guidance of even an inexperienced Trainer.
After I caught Exeggcute, the logical next step would be to capture a Water-type. My preference was a Seel, Poliwag or Lapras, as their final forms were large enough to carry my five-foot-eleven, hundred-thirty-nine-pound body across the various large bodies of water that populate the Region area and had good secondary types, Ice being great against the Grass-type, the favored anti-Water-type, and Fighting being just a good all-around type.
After that and after I acquired Surf and the Soul Badge, property of Koga, the ninja Leader of the Fuchsia City Gym, I would be able to travel to Johto across the small bay between Pallet Town and New Bark Town or, depending on the level of my Surfer, I could even head off to Hoenn or Orre or my home Region, the Sevii Islands. My plan, however, called for making a stop in Johto to acquire a Piloswine or a Steelix, depending on the type of Water Pokemon I captured, then heading off to Hoenn to round out my team with a Kecleon, the Normal-type being a good Swiss Army Knife attack-wise, and a Sableye, the wonder Ghost/Dark Pokemon that has no weaknesses type-wise.
Of course, this team depended on Charmander evolving into Charizard, which, if he didn't want to, could be changed in a second. I had several alternate teams already planned out, but, being the rather reckless, footloose character I am, I wasn't even sure I wanted to operate with a planned-out team. After all, the Poison-type, even though it was only on one of my lists, was a fun type to watch on TV, and the all-around-weak Electric-type was, although lousy defensively, a powerhouse when it got rolling, with such Pokemon as Raichu, which could launch roughly a hundred thousand volts of power at a whim, Magneton, which was known to down a city's power just by being there, and Manectric, which could get so powerful that it would be continually trailed by thunderstorms.
So, as of my first day of Pokemon Training, I had some idea of what I was going to do and little idea of how to do it. But that didn't matter, because I was part of the greater corporate identity known as the Pokemon League.
And that, as I studied my Trainer's Handbook, was impressive in itself.
I looked up briefly as Flash growled in pain, then returned my attention to my book when I noticed that he had just bumped his nose on the Caterpie's head and had already returned to helping the little caterpillar chase the Rattata around. I turned the page and found myself suddenly stumbling on an innocuously-titled chapter: Cautionary Preventative Steps to Prevent Permanent Injury to Yourself and Your Pokemon from Wild Pokemon.
Now, the mere fact that wild Pokemon would consciously maim a Trainer’s Pokemon was a shock in itself, but a Trainer? I began reading intently to see if they meant accidental injury, like a freak Thunderbolt being loosed in the wrong direction or a Rock Throw starting an avalanche. As I read into how many deaths and injuries wild Pokemon purposely inflicted on Trainers and their Pokemon, I found myself entering into a place that many people wake up to every day: the Real World.
During my first eighteen years, I had been duped into believing that Pokemon Training was a bed of roses. Oh, sure, I’d known that I’d have to work hard to help my Pokemon become more powerful, and I had known since watching my first Pokemon Battle on the Arena Channel that Trainers and Pokemon would both be tested physically and mentally during battle. I had even known that many Pokemon prey on other Pokemon, but it was academic to me: a mental and not emotional realization that predators have to eat meat because they are predators.
But as I read on into the death statistics and the maimings and the disappearances, many of which were extremely violent, something inside me clicked on. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I could tell what its purpose was. It was there to help me survive in this brand-new world and it was just inputting its first information: death does not always come through age alone. As my eyes glazed over the pages I was reading, I realized that I had even read of this reaction before. The ‘Survival Instinct’, many Trainers who had clawed their way to the top of the stack had called it. A little consciousness inside the consciousness that was always trying to keep the parent consciousness and, by extension, the body that it was in capable of supporting its further existence.
Flash growled again, this time in a playful manner, and I jerked involuntarily, snapping my head around to see him, the Caterpie and one of the Rattata tickling the other Rattata and all four giggling hysterically. I was about to yell for Flash to get away, they were wild Pokemon that could kill him, but then another consciousness awoke: common sense informed me quite rudely that it was doubtful any of the three Wilders, as I mentally labeled them, could take Flash on and win, whether singly or as a group. Fire is naturally dangerous to Bug-types, and the two Rattata didn’t look near as prepared for battle as Flash, who had grown up being instructed in an environment that prepared him for the sole purpose of being a beginning Trainer’s first Pokemon and probably that Trainer’s powerhouse. Not only that, but common sense also directed my eyes to Flash’s fangs. He was a predator, unlike the herbivore Caterpie or the omnivorous, but mainly herbivorous, Rattata, and was more likely to eat them than they were to kill him.
I settled down at that, returning to my book even as I cursed myself for being so jumpy and silently thanking Lance Toshiba, the Kanto Elite Four Champion who, eleven years before, had altered the Trainer Minimum Age from ten to fifteen. If I had been a ten-year-old and had read that chapter, I would have probably run off screaming and gotten myself eaten.
Actually, considering how I was at ten, I probably wouldn’t have even read the Handbook and gotten myself eaten the third day out of Pallet. Maturity, even five extra years, is a wonderful thing.
As I settled back into the book, reading through the various precautions to be taken when traveling through forests and other wild, virtually untouched areas, the idea slowly began developing in my mind that, even though dangerous, an excursion into some of the tamer wild areas would be a good chance for a little extra training or capturing a more powerful Pokemon for the team. So the idea was already in my head when I got into the section about training in wild parts of the Regions, which began going into detail on the unknown status of so many of them. Perhaps, a small voice echoed in my head, when Flash was stronger and I knew a little more...
Then I noticed, abruptly and unhappily, that it was getting dark. And I was still a couple miles away from even the Viridian Plain, where Viridian City was located.
To set the proper context, I had just finished reading the equivalent of a spooky book. And it was getting dark.
Whee is an understatement.
“Flash!” I slid down from my rock and looked around for the little orange lizard, locating the burning light of his tail hiding behind a tree in the slowly-but-surely gathering gloom. “Time to go!”
The lizard slumped out from behind the tree, making a complaining noise that was echoed by his three playmates and a new player, a Hoothoot that hopped out from a small hole in the tree above Flash. I sighed and waved for Flash to hurry.
“Hurry up, Flash, it’s late and we’re still a couple hours away from Viridian City and the Pokemon Center.” The thought of the free bed and meal was attractive, to say nothing of the safety of four walls around me. It would take something really determined to break through the walls of a PC, which were rated to withstand everything from a Charizard’s fire to a Gyarados’ thrashing to a Nidoking’s Hyper Beam. And the only predatory Pokemon around these parts were all Bug-, Normal- and Poison-types, which meant that they weren’t much of a threat to a city watched over by the powerful Giovanni Landers, Root Admin of the deadly Team Rocket, masterful strategist and unarguably the most powerful Ground-type Trainer in the world, and home to the Headquarters for not only Team Rocket, but also the Headquarters of the Mercenary Teams Sting and Bloodsport and the Fan Team Karl’s Heroes and secondary bases and recruitment centers for more Teams than you could shake a stick at.
All in all, it was the safest place in the world that night. And here it was, roughly thirty minutes until dark, and I was still a few hours from leaving the Wild and entering the safety of domesticated Civilization.
Flash, however, didn’t quite see it that way. He looked first at the sun, then north in the direction of Viridian City and south in the direction of Pallet Town, which was already three hours behind us. He then turned his gaze to me and shook his head, making a strangely serious sound for something of such a cute appearance while pointing toward a dell formed by several hills dropping abruptly down for roughly fifteen feet a few dozen yards to the west of our position. I cocked my head and thought it over, then figured out that he wanted to make camp in the dell and shook my head.
“No, let’s try to get to Viridian City.” Trying to exert some sort of emotional sway over him, I said, in a tone not a little discouraged, “Everybody else who started today is probably there already.”
Flash grinned and waved for me to follow him, then, with the Rattata and Caterpie scampering around ahead of him, trotted toward the valley.
I was about ready to give up and recall him when a new thought hit me: look it over seriously, deliberate fairly on the location, then say no and make a break for Viridian City, having shown myself to be fair and intelligent and very hungry. With that in mind, I hefted my sleeping roll onto my shoulders and stuffed my book into the pocket of my pants before striding along behind Flash, determined not to be swayed by any emotional appeal.
My emotions weren’t what was appealed to, though, as I found out to my rapidly-drooping spirits. For starters, the dell was situated so that there was only one steep entrance from the top, with the trees and assorted brush blocking all access from the less violently-steep valleys formed by the gently rolling hills around and the steep walls lined at the bottom by the sharp, pointy plants preventing entry from that angle. The entrance itself, as I discovered the fun way, was lined with razor-sharp thorns and wild rose bushes, not to mention the fact that the ceiling of the tunnel was so low near the bottom of the trail that I had to crawl on all fours and even Flash, two foot something that he was, had to stoop slightly to go through.
When I emerged from the tunnel, I found myself in what had to be the inspiration for all of May-May Clionne's journey novels. The trees that lined the edges of the dell had grown in such a way that their leaf-lined branches formed a slight roof, through which the late-late-afternoon light filtered through in a way that somehow lit the entire area without throwing much of a shadow. A tiny bubbling brook ran right through the middle of the clearing, which was populated by grass and dotted with several patches of dirt showing where previous occupants had worn the grass out. There were even small piles of charcoaled sticks showing where previous Trainers had made small fires for cooking and warmth. The Rattata, Caterpie and Hoothoot immediately began running around in a berserk fashion, playing that Tag/Football thing they'd been playing before.
I couldn't find anything to dislike about the spot, much to my irritation. I wanted out of the cold, out of the elements and away from the dangerous predators. I was about to veto the camping site when my 'irritation' factor suddenly swapped angles after realizing something very, very, VERY irritating was happening.
I was letting my emotions get twisted by a book that was probably written by a big, fat, overly lazy creature way back in a warm office.
THAT officially switched my opinions around, 'cause if there's one thing I HATE, it's being manipulated, whether intentionally or unintentionally, by somebody else. I'd camp in that spot all night and ENJOY it if it killed me, which was doubtful.
The thought of the rumored packs of Houndour and Houndoom flickered into my mind, but my irritation, which was rapidly transferring into anger, at the fear-mongering that I'd been playing on myself via a chapter in a book, simply transferred itself into an oath that I'd kill them if they got me out of my bed in the middle of the night.
Or at least make it more trouble than I was worth to eat me.
While I was thinking all this through and sucking on my bleeding fingertips, Flash trotted around the perimeter of the clearing, which was rapidly darkening as the sun went down, before trotting up to me and tapping my thigh with one claw. When I looked down, he pointed at the sleeping roll slung across my chest from hip to shoulder and then at a clear spot on one side of the brook that was worn in almost a perfect rectangle. Previous sleepers enjoying a good spot, I decided, and moved over there, removing my roll from my back and untying the twine holding it together before flipping it out and setting it down, neatly lining it up with the edges of the worn spot. When I finished, I looked it over and decided that that spot was, in fact, a previous resting spot for people, as it was perfectly proportioned to my bedroll.
Flash, meanwhile, had skipped off to play with his friends and I decided to leave him at it while I picked up firewood. Looking around, the feeling that this was the best spot to be camping in for miles around continued building in me. Dead branches littered the ground, many of them either small branches suitable for my needs or larger branches that could be easily broken into smaller pieces to resize them for a fire. There were scores of tiny dead branches from the brush as well, providing perfect kindling, and I sure didn't need a lighter or matches as long as I had Flash and his flame-tipped tail.
Quickly gathering enough brushwood and branches for a fairly decent fire, I plopped them next to a charred spot and, flopping down, built a small pyramidal structure in the gloom of the final rays of the sun and the early twinkling of the stars and a new moon. When finished, I could only see that I was done by the reflected firelight of Flash's tail swinging around. Looking around, I spotted him and the two Rattata having a race between the Hoothoot and the Caterpie. I waited until the race was over, which he lost handily to both the Rattata, then whistled to catch his attention and waved him over.
"Hey, Flash, gotta light?"
He nodded and merrily skipped over, carefully avoiding the brook by jumping as far as possible from a running start. When he reached the little pile of wood, he brought his tail out in front of him and, holding the tail firmly between his paws, blew on the live flame that was attached to the tip of it. Embers began scattering wildly, then several lit on some of the dry grass I had placed underneath the wood and started them to burning, at which Flash stepped back and watched contentedly as the flames began rising.
I watched the fire for a coupla minutes as well, then my stomach made a sound like somebody spitting and I rummaged through my left pants pocket before pulling out a nutrient bar and a piece of steak wrapped in plastic that I'd brought along for Flash. Unwrapping the meat, I offered it to the Charmander, who grinned toothily before practically inhaling the food, almost taking the tips of my finger off in the process. I threw him a dubious look as I shook my hand to get the tingling of near-death experience out of it, then turned my attention to my own food and began tearing into it with an appetite that hadn't had a thing since roughly two-thirty, when I'd had a light snack consisting of three apples and four pickle-ketchup-mustard-cheese sandwiches.
As I inhaled my own food at least as fast as Flash had done his, I watched the little fire lizard returning to the game of Catch-Me-and-Tackle-Me-In-Teams-That-Don't-Stay-The-Same and, like most people who end up sitting in an almost romantic setting eating a PokEnergy bar for his supper, began reflecting on the world and ways to enjoy it quietly.
For roughly five seconds.
There was a sudden 'whoosh' of air above me and then a 'huff' of exhaled air, heralding the arrival of a female wearing nothing but black, ninja outfit and fancy masquerade-style mask and all.
I, being the guy who's always on top of things that I am, gave a startled 'yip' as I flopped onto my back, where I immediately slapped my palms flat to the ground and flipped to my feet, landing with my hands in front of me in case she tried any funny business.
Flash wasn't too far behind me, leaping over the brook and landing on all fours next to me before raising himself to his full height and baring his teeth at the girl.
We stood there for a moment, the girl on one side calmly watching our antics as if they were amusing and we on the other watching her carefully, intently watching her every move in case she was going to attack. After a moment of that, the girl smiled slightly and, crossing her arms in front of her and revealing two Spinarak clutching her armbands, bowed, her neck-length black hair shifting with her ghostly motion like something that had a mind of its own.
"This night is heralded by the smoke of your fire, young Trainer." Straightening up, she stretched comfortably, arms above her head and flipping the Spinarak around so that they were back-to-back. “The dark hunters are out and about. I suggest you prepare yourself with containers of water to douse their fire and kicks and punches to send them running.” Suddenly dropping into a crouch, she backflipped onto a tree branch overhead, where she paused briefly and looked at me coyly. “Show no fear, young Trainer. They can sense it and it draws them.” With that remarkably reassuring remark, she was gone, leaving a clearing that was suddenly very quiet except for the fearful whimpering of the little wild Pokemon and the nervous rustle of the Hoothoot rapidly trading feet several times.
I clenched my fists and looked down at Flash, who stared up at me determinedly, albeit with a slight tremor in his lower jaw. Not wanting to frighten the Pokemon any further, I quirked a grin on one side of my mouth and straightened up, letting my hands fall to my sides.
“I don’t suppose she was referring to the IRS, huh?”
Flash looked puzzled for a moment, then enlightenment broke across his face and he chortled for a bit, until the Hoothoot abruptly began hooting in a fashion that is best known as ‘panicked’. Snapping my gaze toward it, I was almost struck by its panicked flight from whatever was chasing it. Ducking beneath it, I was then almost bowled over by the white streak that was flashing along after it.
Operative word, of course, being ‘almost’.
My feet held their places beneath the initial assault, allowing me to get my hands up just as a set of the nastiest teeth I’d ever seen came for my throat. Wrapping my hands around the upper and lower jaws, I spun and flung the Persian, as the jeweled forehead revealed it to be, into the side of a tree, causing it to yowl painfully. I winced at the sound, remembering the strange girl’s admonishment about the dark hunters, undoubtedly Houndoom and/or Houndour, being in the area and prowling about, then the cat rose to its feet, glowering darkly at me and growling angrily. Flash interposed himself between us, growling nastily at the cat and having the favor returned. The Persian slowly got to its feet, allowing me to see its ribs so plainly that I could have counted them all if time had permitted.
But the cat had little patience for visual inspection by a human, as evinced by its rapidly dropping to its haunches and then leaping from that position, heading right for me in a wounded fury. It hit me in the chest before I could duck, knocking me back into the brook before we bounced back in a roiling, tearing, heaving mass of fur, claws and muscle. Just as I managed to hit its head with a rock that I hastily grabbed from the edge of a tree and roll on top of it, wrapping my fingers around its throat in a desperate to subdue it before it did so to me, it disappeared from under me. I collapsed into a roll and came up in a crouch, seeing my handbook teetering over the edge of the brook’s embankment, an empty PokEnergy bar wrapper and a line of five pokeballs, with the fifth one wriggling back and forth wildly. Even as I watched, awestruck and still slightly dizzy from my rolling around, the pokeball stopped wiggling and the red top half went transparent, revealing a glowering Persian staring up at me. I blinked a coupla times, then looked at Flash, whose face mirrored my stupefied shock.
“This is SO not the way I envisioned catching my first Pokemon.”
He nodded, slowly shuffling over to the handbook and carefully flipping it back onto the dry ground just as it began sliding into the brook. We both stared at it for a second, our brains slowly catching up with what had happened, then I shook my head and, stretching out on one hand and a knee, plucked the Persian’s pokeball up from where it was lying, causing a whimper to emanate from a bush along the rim. Snapping around in preparation for attack, the most threatening thing I noticed was that the Caterpie, in its species’ response to fear, had released what had to be the most vile stench I’d ever had crawl up and hook my nostrils in advance of ripping them out of my head. Grinning, chuckling with the release of tension, I waved my left hand in front of my face while my right fingers, still holding the pokeball, covered my nose in an attempt to filter out the smell. It smelled like my pocket.
“Dude, that stinks.”
Flash began chuckling, then giggling, then he broke into laughter, my voice adding to the din as the rest of our little group began releasing the tension that had built up through laughter.
“Oooooowooooooo! Roooooo! Hooooooooooooowwwooooooo!”
The clearing went silent as quickly as it had broken out into laughter, the girl’s warning echoing its way into my head. ‘The dark hunters are out and about.’
We were SO dead.
But then the stress in my brain that hadn’t yet been released found a new outlet: pride and fury. I had just survived my first encounter with a Predator, capital P and large teeth, on my own. There was no way I was gonna let a few wolves stop me.
Grunting, I leaped over the brook, picking up my pokeballs and book as I went and stuffing them back into my pockets. I paused for a moment when I reached my bedroll, trading hard stares with the Persian for a moment before chucking its pokeball on the ground.
“C’mon out and join us, kitty!”
The other Pokemon all went tense again as the white cat erupted from the confines of its pokeball, landing on all fours and staring around the clearing with hate and spite in its face. When it reached my face, which was reflecting my rapidly darkening mood, it must have sensed that I was ready to take it on again if it tried anything and sat back on its haunches, its only movement after that the twitching of its ears as the wolves continued howling. Staring at it a little longer, I let my voice drip with the fury that was building up in me, fueled by my memories of the fight.
“You are hungry.” Its only reaction was to swivel its ears back to me. “You want meat. You want blood spurting between your teeth and tendrils breaking.” I had little to no idea if that was the case, but my friends in the Junior Novel Writer’s Club back home had sure thought they knew and it seemed to be working, as the words flowed from memory and began causing the cat to lick its chops. “You want your prey to wriggle in your mouth, feeling its last few drops of life slowly trickle into your mouth.” I knelt down, dropping my eyes to its level. “And I want to deal pain to those wolves. Hear them?” I cocked my head to the side, letting a dangerous grin flit across my face. “Do you think you might like a little wolf-meat?”
The cat broke into a toothy grin and got to its feet, bobbing its head in a nod that shook its entire body. Standing up, I waved it toward the entrance tunnel to the clearing.
“Have fun.”
It bounded away, disappearing into the trees faster than I could follow with my eyes, then I knelt down and began rolling up the bedroll, directing my voice toward Flash and the other Pokemon.
“Flash, we’ll be heading outta here as fast as possible and as quietly as possible.” Flipping the twine around the roll, I began tying a shoe knot. “The rest of you are welcome to come with us if you don’t already have a place to hide.”
The Hoothoot flapped its wings and took off into the sky, hooting a farewell that the rest of us responded to by squeaks, growls and waving. The Caterpie crawled up to a tree and slowly began climbing it, while the two Rattata traded looks, then dove for the bushes and disappeared. Blinking, Flash and I traded looks, then shrugged simultaneously and turned toward the entrance tunnel.
Right about then the howls, which had continued unabated since beginning, altered in pitch and a new type of howl was added to the din: pained, wounded and dying. A deadly-sounding yowl rose above the din and I quirked a half-hearted grin.
"Sounds like our friend the tooth has met the wolves." Turning to Flash, I snapped my fingers and he snapped his gaze to me. "Awright, here's the plan: we duck outta this hole and turn left. We go roughly two to three hundred yards and we come to a stream that's goes up to my shoulders and is about fifteen yards wide. We cross that and it should hold them up long enough for Tooth-'N-Claw to catch up. After that, we run like there's no tomorrow." I thought about that for a second, then shrugged. "Actually, there won't BE a tomorrow for us if we don't make it." Giving him a stern look, I shook my finger at him. "So we're gonna make it!"
Flash nodded and gave me a thumb's-up and I hefted my bedroll onto my shoulder just as something came crashing down into the clearing from the other side, thudding onto the ground and causing us both to spin toward it. We relaxed when we saw that it was just a human, although we kept an eye on him as he got to his feet and brushed his sleeves, the girl from before floating into my mind. There was a soft flapping noise and then a blue-and-purple Zubat fluttered into view, squeaking a couple times at its Trainer, who looked us over carefully.
"I don't suppose you're some big-shot League Champion, are ya?"
When he said 'League Champion', that clicked with the girl's face and I glowered darkly at the tree she had backflipped onto. "No, but you just missed one." He blinked at me and I sighed. "Onyx was here."
He chuckled and absently adjusted the straps to his backpack. "Yeah, that's what they all say." Sighing, he turned and looked at the hole in the tree cover that marked where he had come crashing through. "I suppose we're dead."
I shrugged and, kicking the fire apart, plunged the clearing into gloom before moving toward the tunnel entrance. "Follow us and we'll see if we can't survive slightly longer than today."
Dropping to my hands and knees, watching the shadows thrown by Flash's tail waver ahead of me, I crawled up the tunnel, listening to the startled noises emanating from the guy behind us as he discovered that the thorns on the bushes around us were decidedly sharp. When we emerged from the tunnel, I pulled Flash's pokeball from my vest pocket and helped him out of the tunnel, whispering in his ear that he'd probably be better off in his ball before we got to the water. He nodded and I dropped the ball on his head, causing the light from his tail to disappear and the starlight and moonlight to suddenly snap into focus. I closed my eyes and counted to twenty as the other kid slowly felt his way up, huffing slightly form the effort.
"Couldn't ya have left the light on fer another sec?" His whisper was almost inaudible in the din caused by the loud yowling and howling all around us. "It's rugged down there!"
I grinned and whacked his shoulder just enough to attract his attention before moving off toward the darker distant shadow of the water I had spotted from my rock perch before I had begun reading oh so long ago. As we moved along through what felt like the entire pack of howling, yipping and occasionally squealing wolves, I felt more than heard the other kid slowly edging ahead of me, his Zubat flashing along around us and ahead of us. I got the sneaking suspicion that he was planning on ditching me and tapped him on the shoulder, getting his attention.
"I'd better lead in case we meet my Persian out here."
He looked at me, a dark, shadowy shifting of the head, and said, in a tone that sounded rather surprised, "You've got a Persian out here?"
"Just caught it and sicced it on the wolves when I first heard them." Right on cue, a ferocious yowl rose above the din from our left. "And there he is."
"Ah."
He didn't say anything else, but he did move back behind me again. I led the way toward the water, then heard a shift in the howls and saw three pairs of eyes staring at us from straight ahead. They were low, however, so I just charged, knocking the Houndour out of the way with my knees before they could adjust to my abrupt speed-up. My flight must have been a signal to the kid to run faster, because he shot off ahead of me with his Zubat, both heading for the safety that that water represented at a speed nothing short of impressive. I flew along behind them listening as the howls began all switching to a timbre that spooked me. It was the hunting howls of the Houndour and Houndoom.
One of the howls, however, didn't change its tone. It was strange, with more power in it rather than terror, like that of the Hound family. I didn't feel the need to investigate it, however, and just kept running.
Then I tripped over the kid and the wolf standing over him, tucking my legs under and rolling through before getting to my feet and spinning around. The wolf was stirring slightly, growling fuzzily from the blow my knee had given its head. Remembering the way I had captured the Persian, I dove into my pocket and pulled a pokeball out, dropping on the Houndoom. It disappeared and I waited until the sweet-sounding 'ding' rang out before reaching down and feeling for the small sphere. When I found it, I picked it up and put in the vest pocket immediately beneath Flash's pocket, mentally labeling it as the 'Houndoom's pocket' before stooping over and shaking the guy's shoulder. He stirred slightly, then a squeak from above me brought my attention up. I spotted the fluttering form of the Zubat and waved it down.
"C'mon down and help me watch my footing while I carry your Trainer here." There was a questioning squeak and I shrugged. "Looks like a Houndoom got to him, but then I nailed it with my knee and caught it."
The Zubat squeaked again, then let loose with what had to be the loudest Screech attack I had ever heard. Slapping my hands over my ears, I looked over to see a Houndour that was approaching me stop in its tracks before suddenly vibrating into the ground. Blinking, I brought my hands down from my ears and, pulling a pokeball from my pocket, chucked it at the Houndour. There was a welcome 'ding' and, after hefting the other kid on my shoulder, wavered over and knelt down to pick up the ball, placing it in the vest pocket opposite Flash's before standing up again and following the Zubat, who flew back and forth ahead of me, keeping an ear on what was around us.
Abruptly, more feeling than hearing, I knew there was something walking along beside me. Looking down, I spotted the Persian padding along next to me, a satisfied air about it. Grinning, I reached down with my free hand and scratched it behind the ears, causing it to purr.
"Have a good supper?" It growled comfortably and I grinned. "Good." There was a howl from ahead of us and I winced. "I hate to ask you to do this right after you've eaten, but could you clear the way for us? The Zubat's a friend, by the way."
It growled and took off ahead of me, loping toward the river ahead and disappearing into the night. There was a howl again, cut off abruptly and causing even more howls to rise at its disappearance. We were so close to the water by then that I could see the reflection of the stars on the water.
Yup. That's when the second and third Houndoom I had seen that night appeared, one standing over the bleeding carcass of a Houndour and the other off to one side, both staring with deadly intent at me. I grimaced, then growled and charged, yelling things that are better off left unsaid. The two wolves abruptly jerked off to the left and right, the one on my left falling prey to the Zubat's Screech attack while the one on my right leaped at me and was in turn pounced on by my Persian. Turning around, I pulled another pokeball from my pocket and chucked it at the Houndoom while it was still engaged in a ferocious bite-and-claw fight with my Persian. The wolf disappeared and I dipped into my pocket for another pokeball, spinning toward the Zubat's opponent, who was writhing on the ground, and chucking it at him as well. There were two 'dings', one right after another, and I picked both pokeballs up and placed them in my empty lower-left vest pocket, reflecting that I was getting a rather decent collection of Dark and Fire Pokemon.
The Persian growled at me and I quirked a grin. "Fight across the river, 'kay?"
It glowered at me, but followed along as I began walking again, switching over to a run as the howls intensified behind me. Then I had to abruptly skid to a stop as the bank of the small river, as the body of water turned out to be, almost toppling over with my top-heavy load before I managed to drop the other kid behind me and fall to the ground. As I lay there for a second, trying to catch my breath, I heard a suspicious snuffling nearby and looked up into the face of yet another Houndoom. I sighed and whistled, causing it to look up at me and bare its teeth.
“Yeah, look, can’t we all just live together in peace and harmony?” It growled angrily and began advancing on me. “I guess not.”
Right on cue, the Persian dropped from a tree branch above us and began a ferocious brawl with the Houndoom, who was clearly outclassed and just as clearly determined to survive long enough to kill. Getting to my feet, I looked around and spotted the Zubat fluttering around on the other side of the river, patrolling that end to make sure there wasn’t anything that could make trouble from that end. At least, that was the comforting thought I decided to live by for the moment. I turned my head to the side so that I could speak to the Persian.
“I’m not catching that one, so go ahead and maul to your heart’s content.”
The fight picked up in intensity, if that was possible, and I reached down and picked the other kid back up onto my shoulders, removing my handbook from my pocket and stuffing it in his backpack before zipping it up again, doing the same to my pockets before turning toward the river again, the kid across my shoulders. Bracing myself for the impact, I took a step out and dropped into the icy early-Spring water, dropping in up to my waist before making contact with the bottom. Glowering, already starting to shiver from the water seeping through my pants and into my vest and shirt, I swore that I was going to personally skin any Houndoom or Houndour that made it across the water and turn it into a nice shirt as I began fording the river. It slowly got deeper as I went into it, with the center being almost chest-high before it began getting slightly shallower as I approached the opposite bank. Freezing cold though it was, I at least had the comforting thought that none of the part-Fire Hounds could make it across, at least not without being badly burned.
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