Ethan
The attic drips, outside it never stops raining. Moonlight filters through the one, thatched window. I sit cross legged on the wooden planks and try not to hear but the voices are endless. They speak of plans, of evil and a consuming, endless darkness.
"Ethan," I hear through the crack in the keyhole. "You can't hide, they won't go away." There's fear in her voice, warnings in her mind. Go, she says, escape.
"Open the door," the handle rattles, the hissing voices from the other side get louder. "Ethan!"
"Move aside," the creaks on the staircase are heavy. There's too many people out there. A fist pounds on the door. "Where's the key?"
"His mind is the key," they give away my secrets… but they knew already, this is why they're here.
"Back up," I don't need to read his mind to know what that means. The energy expels with a metallic shudder then a low growl breaks the silence.
"No, don't hurt him!" my Mom cries. Go Ethan, leave, now.
"Houndour, tackle!" the order is met with snarling barks and when the attack hits the whole frame shakes. I grit my teeth. I won't let them in. I can't. I focus, seeing only the door.
There's a snigger, "Okay Ethan, we can play this game." No. I hear his thoughts before he gives the order. I stand and run from the door, towards the window.
"Houndour, dark pulse," the energy tears the door apart, splinters shoot across the room like bullets. I feel the darkness at my back, it sucks at my own power. I'm weakening but I have to escape -
"Abra," I whisper and close my eyes as I'm enveloped in a glow of light.
Teleporting is sensation, warmth tingles over my body, the darkness drops away and all I feel is Abra's power.
I open my eyes, now we're in a field, the grass is wet under my fingers and tall, we're partly concealed. Still it rains but an orb surrounds us, the drops ping away, gleaming like shredded metal.
Abra is watching me carefully. I can sense his confusion. "They want to take us." He is perfectly still. "We can't go back." His hand reaches out and the soft touch of his fur on my hand makes me grit my teeth to force the tears away. "We'll get stronger," I say and grip his hand. I send him images of mountain peaks, we have to get away from Vaniville, before their Houndour sniffs us out. A nod. The soft glow slips over us and we're passing through space and time. Nothing more than frissons in the atmosphere.