Greetings, and thank you for coming to this internet page to read a brief short story. It was inspired by a line from Jentus's Pokémon fanfiction: Seasons.
Now, without further ado, you may read.
His breath was coming to him in short, choppy portions. His black hair, greasy from lack of cleansing, hung over his eyes as he bent over, hands on his knees. He used his fingers to grasp his gray jeans in frustration. Why couldn't they just accept the fact that he wasn't giving up? His black hoodie sleeve rose to wipe sweat from his forehead. Letting out a rough sigh, he straightened.
"C'mon, Truffles."
"Benjamin Strackker" could be found on wanted posters across the city, which was a considerable chunk of land. A picture of the fugitive from law was located above his name. This photograph was taken during his only low-point, his first failure. Benjamin had been pulling off his fourth crime, this one a well-thought-out theft of an ancient idol. The museum had installed a few more security necessities after he had studied the originals for days, apparently. Stupid pressure plate under the idol...
Long story short, Ben got himself caught. Not used to actually being confronted in the middle of hauling stolen goods, he didn't think out his escape tactic. Dropping the chunk of heavy stone onto the floor unceremoniously, he launched into a fist fight with the guards. Not smart. They gave him quite the beating, not sparing his face. They took this as an opportunity to whip out the camera and do an unglamorous photo shoot. Maybe they were looking for mug shots. Maybe they just wanted to remember the day that they caught this stubborn crook. Due to his recent tussle, his picture wasn't exactly flattering, with cuts and whatnot.
This beautiful picture was the only one that the public knew him by. That night that the photograph was taken, it was a year ago, almost two in fact. Ben has been unaware of the exact date for quite some time. He always forgets to check calendars when he makes his "visits". The picture was outdated, but it didn't matter; Ben Strackker wasn't planning on getting caught again.
Sprinting was no easy task in the forest, the limited night's light not exactly helping. Fortunately, he had made quite the many escapes through these woods in the past, and there weren't many hazards on the ground. Nevertheless, he thanked a deity he didn't believe in every time that his running foot landed securely on the lowly visible ground.
His Typhlosion, Truffles, followed loyally a few yards behind. He chuckled, remembering the professor wishing them a "memorable adventure". If only he knew. Anyway, she had made sure to "turn off" the flame upon her strong back. Having a virtual lighthouse follow Ben would definitely assist the pursuers. Who were they, anyway? The usually city guardsmen would be simple to shake. Step one: enter woods. Step two: run in zig-zags. Step three: enjoy your victory over their simple minds. The usual pack, the oafish guards, should start to lose track of him by now. Yet, looking backwards (not an ideal sprinting strategy), Ben could see a silhouette in the far distance - very far, but there.
This seemed suspicious. The common sight of pursuing guards mainly contains clumsy running and nothing else noteworthy. The figure Ben could see used a precise sprinting technique. Moreover, guardsmen constantly gave away their location through shouts and spastically waving flashlights about.
It mattered not; Ben could no longer even see his pursuer. Ha, yet another escape. When would this city learn -
Just as he was mentally mocking the city's security, something flew out from the foliage, became lodged in the ground, and tripped Ben. A short yelp managed to get out of his mouth as his face slammed onto the cold dirt. Truffles skidded to a halt. She let out an intimidating growl. Ben moaned as he picked himself halfway up.
"Someone near, Truffles?"
Someone hopped down from a tree branch that was high out of Ben's sight. Before Truffles could launch her Flamethrower attack, the mysterious person used some sort of ranged shock-lasso-combo to incapacitate her. The person turned to Ben. She donned baggy dark pants, darker shoes, and the rest of her clothing (torso cover, gauntlets, mouth cover) was made of some generic wrapping.
"Truffles! What've you done?!" Ben was filled to the metaphorical brim with anger, hate, and rage. He yelled varied insults as he attempted to stand and face her.
The woman - was she old enough to be called a woman? - seemed to only giggle at the fact that she could've just killed a Pokémon. Then she recovered her stoical expression. Ben stood unsteadily before her in the moonlit forest. She examined his features. Medium to long black hair, dark clothing, and gray-blue eyes. This chump matched the description. Ooh, he was raising a fist. She simply used the lasso on him.
He shouted in pain and fell to the ground once more. Thankfully, they were too far from the city for anyone to hear. Is that a good thing? Ben wasn't sure. He regarded the female who stood before him, his vision blurred. She shifted her weight and put a hand on her hip. She lazily flicked back her blond hair. Ben's pursuer gave him a look of "Really? You're really not giving up?" He groaned.
What is she; a frickin' ninja? Why the fuck is she even following me? Bounty hunter - that's it. She approached him slowly. In a rather unfriendly manner, she used her bandage-covered hands to pick him up. They were face to face. The bounty hunter - or ninja? Whatever - ripped her small dagger out of the ground. It must have taken a long time to train to be able to spear that into the forest floor. It shined in the light reflected off of the moon. She grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie and roughly pulled him closer.
Great. I guess this is it. I just wish - I just wish - No. I have no regrets. None. Then, instead of getting lost in her dazzling brown eyes, Ben looked beyond her. Truffles stirred slightly on the ground. The Pokémon managed to get onto her feet. The bounty hunter grazed the skin of his throat with the blade, watching it barely cut into him. She considered the drop of blood on the dagger's tip with an innocent expression.
"Look," Ben said in a cynical voice, "I don't mean to interrupt, but I gotta say something."
She seemed puzzled.
"Flamethrower!"
The ninja-like bounty hunter was shocked by his command and loosened her grip enough for him to escape and dart to the side. The blazing conflagration mercifully landed at her feet. However, the sheer force of the trained attack knocked her over. The woods were briefly illuminated.
"Yeah! Truffles!" Ben celebrated a bit. "So, you okay? Take this Super Potion. Now, let's get -" Something held him back. He looked over his shoulder; the bounty hunter was still there, on the dirt. She didn't move. Ben grunted. She was willing to leave Truffles in that state. This is only fair. Then again, when had life been fair? When had the bullies of his childhood been tormented just because it's fair? When had his parents been revived just because it's fair? When had he been caught just because it's fair?
Life's not fair. A glint caught Ben's eye. Turning right, he found the dagger, lodged into a tree trunk from the Flamethrower. He unceremoniously ripped it out. Stuffing in into his pocket, he gave one last look at the pursuer. Life's not fair. "And why should I make it fair?" he said in a low whisper. A tacit order was given to continue fleeing from the city. He started jogging, Truffles following, farther into the dark forest.
He let a smirk creep onto his face. Benjamin Strackker, countless crimes, an abundance of reasons to capture and persecute, yet never brought to justice. That's the way he liked it, and he planned to keep it that way.
How was it? Please shoot me an honest review; it'll only take a few seconds.
Again, thanks to Jentus and you, the reader, for making this possible.
Drive safely.