Author's Note: Hey guys! Reviews would be greatly appreciated! And by greatly appreciated, I mean greatly needed. I just want to see what others think of my "work". Just sit back, relax, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Do I honestly have to do this at the beginning of every chapter? Do you really think I own Pokemon? Well, I don't.
The ocean's harsh winds whipped up the year's final leaves; they danced about the dismal city. The wind played with the trash that was littered throughout the city. A plastic bag tumbled across an empty street, followed by other miscellaneous trash. A few early Christmas advertisements were blown into a sketchy alley, never to be read again. The darkening clouds consumed the top floors of the towering Department Store. A cold drizzle fell, making the city even more miserable. The smell of noxious car fumes mixed with fresh graffiti filled the frigid air. Besides the intense light given off by the casino, the entire city was cast in a gloomy shade of gray; typical for a November evening in western Johto. Hoards upon hoards of pedestrians wandered the dreary streets. They gripped their umbrellas and shopping bags as they scurried down the cracked sidewalks, trying to avoid the murder of Murkrow that circled overhead. The constant moan of the cars locked in traffic reverberated off the skyscrapers of Goldenrod; the horns echoing throughout the entire city.
A figure moved through the sea of people, its pale face and long, striking red ponytail hidden behind the shadow of a black umbrella. It moved swiftly; smoothly weaving between the pedestrians. Its black outfit acted as camouflage. Tightly clutched in its trembling hand was a Pokeball, shrunken to its smaller default form. As the figure continued past the Department Store it picked up speed; its movements became increasingly erratic. It collided with a few commuters, generating some angry shouts and swears. The figure seemed unfazed; determined to continue forward.
In the distance, under the hum of the city, the figure could hear footsteps. They were different, and the figure knew it. They were angry, forceful, determined. As if they were following someone. The figure's mind exploded with alarm.
At this point, its pace was almost a jog. Its grip on the Pokeball tightened. It kept moving faster and faster, pushing past everyone in its path. It began to panic; its breaths labored and shallow. Suddenly, it whisked to the right. Without even waiting for the signal it dashed across the street, narrowly avoiding a taxi and its livid driver. The footsteps grew faster, louder. The figure was now in a sprint. It dropped its umbrella, yet it kept going. Rain splashed against its glasses, clouding its vision. The Pokeball enlarged in the figure's hand. The footsteps were angry, they were coming.
Damn it!
"Go, Xyla!" the girl screamed as she threw the Pokeball into the air. The crowd immediately scrambled in fear as a purple, X-shaped bat emerged from the blinding flash of light. The girl and the Crobat bolted down the now empty sidewalk. Panic overrode her instincts. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs burned each time they took in the frigid air. The footsteps grew louder. She wanted to scream: it was following her. The Crobat flew right beside her, struggling to stay airborne at such an unfamiliar speed. They were passing everything in a blur. She could feel the footsteps crashing right behind her. She had to scream. This was all wrong. Rain pelted against her face, mixing with tears. Suddenly a figure bolted around her, stopping only inches ahead. She slid to a halt. Fear consumed her. She could see the grin on its dark face. Her heart nearly stopped. She was gasping for air.
"Going somewhere?" the shadow scoffed, but she could barely hear it over the screams of the pedestrians. A ball in the shadow's hand emitted a flash of light from which a spherical Pokemon emerged. The shadow's Koffing instantly shot at her own; its speed incredible. The girl's Crobat could not avoid the sudden attack. They collided, the purple sphere released puffs of poisonous gas. Her Pokemon, barely injured, circled around its opponent. She had to think of a move and fast before the shadow hit again. Her mind was blank; all of her logic replaced by terror. The enemy's Koffing continued to strike, its attacks vicious and unrelenting. The girl's Crobat had no choice but to take the blows as its Trainer, its only friend, would not give it a command.
Think! Damn it, think!
But she couldn't. She knew what she had to do but couldn't. Everything was happening so quickly, she could barely react. Her body was frozen, her lungs on fire. The words "Steel Wing" were on the tip of her tongue. She couldn't speak. Her Pokemon could not fight back without her. Her Crobat was struck with Sludge Bomb after Sludge Bomb. The barrage would not stop. The toxins were taking a toll on the Crobat; it could barely flap its wings. Its face was twisted in agony. However, the girl stood watching her only friend get beaten down. Everything was a blur. Emotionless, the shadow shouted commands.
Her Crobat was done; face down in a murky puddle. Her purple wings were tattered and broken, her skin cut and bruised. The shadow snickered and withdrew his hideous Pokemon. The rain picked up, obscuring her vision even more. Hypothermia was setting in and she knew it. Her hands were white, almost blue. Teeth chattered. The shadow nudged the Crobat with his foot, laughing as she stomped it into the mud. It wasn't moving. The girl stood there as the shadow silently laughed; drowned out by the crashing rain. It was then that she realized it was over. Her life was finished. She would die, standing in an ankle-deep puddle in the middle of the city. The city where this all started. The wrong decisions, the betrayal, the death, the misfortune; everything led up to this point. Countless emotions filled her empty head. Her fear spiked. She was shaking uncontrollably. This was it. She had been running from this moment, her destiny, for far too long. She had to accept it. The flash of the knife blade brought her back to reality. The ominous shadow before her revealed the sinister weapon he had been hiding in his black trench coat. He drew closer. He was so close; she could smell his putrid breath. It was hot, almost like fire. She could see her dismal reflection in the silver blade. She was begging for death at this point. She glanced at her Pokemon, her friend. Her only friend. Her best friend. Her partner was probably dead by now, having been motionless for a few minutes. It was her fault. Everything had been her fault. And she knew it.
It all happened so fast. In a blur, she was in the puddle. An unfamiliar, excruciating pain exploded in her abdomen. The scream was caught in her throat; shock took over. She could feel the icy blade cutting through her, with each cold slash more numbing than the last. She was done for; she knew it. She could feel the warmth seeping through her soaked uniform; the crimson blood matching the color of the large "R" in the center. It was over before she knew it. She could not see anything, for her hair was cast in front of her eyes, but she could hear panicked footsteps fading off in the distance. Everything was still. Individual droplets of rain were frozen in midair. Leaves were stopped in mid-tumble. All attention was to her. Dozens of eyes were watching her frail body in horror. Her final moments. Her 15 minutes of fame. This was it.
She closed her eyes.