Easy Prey
The young woman's hands clenched tighter at her purse as she heard the dissonant scream of a young child. Maternity senses arising, she ran down the dark streets, the dim, flickering street lights flashing in her vision. Crouched against the side of an old building, a child sat and looked up at the woman, his eyes full of tears. His dark hair nearly blended in with the shadows.
"My – my mother…" he whispered, his voice cracking. "I can't find her. I tried to look but I – but I…" he stood up and clung to the woman as he burst into tears.
The woman looked down at the child, and placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "Where do you last see her?" she asked, concern and empathy seeping from her voice.
The boy didn't look up at her. "She – she was in the woods." His voice had the slight accent of a young foreigner. "I called for her, and she never answered."
The woman looked down at the boy, and pulled out a pokeball. "I'll help you," she replied as her pokemon, a volbeat, emerged, his tail creating a soft illumination of the area. Shadows crawled among the night, warded off by the glow.
The boy sniffled and nodded, and the two left in the direction of the forest.
The woman took precarious steps as her volbeat became suddenly very frightened. Hoothoot and murkrow peered over the twisted and gnarled branches of the ancient trees, their eyes flashing in the darkness of night.
The boy halted as if he heard something. He turned his head to the right. "M-mommy?" he whispered. The young woman heard it too: human footsteps crunching the forest undergrowth, twigs snapping.
"Excuse me?" the woman asked into the darkness. "Are you missing your child?"
A pause.
She turned to the little boy, who was gone. "W-where did you go?" she whispered, barely loud enough to hear. A gust of wind broke through next to her, along with a squeak of terror from her beloved volbeat. She didn't turn fast enough, and her volbeat was gone, and she was left behind in the blackness of the woods.
The woman closed her eyes, the differences between that and the darkness one and the same. A horrifying cry rose up, like a tortured or beaten animal or child. She clenched her eyes tighter, and she felt a hand on her back. Sharp claws etched into her shoulders.
She opened her eyes and looked behind her, the long, black snout and wild red hair of the creature her last vision before her gorey demise as teeth tore her apart. The zoroark stood over her kill, a smug, sharp-toothed smile coming across her face. Next to her, a young and proud zorua padded next to her, the body of a volbeat nearby.
The mother and son enjoyed their meal in the darkness.
Do not believe the child who calls in the darkness, the elders of villages would say. It will attempt to flush you from safety, its eyes full of tears and body trembling. Do not believe the child, no matter how much it screams, no matter how much it cries, no matter how much it tugs at you. Do not believe the child no matter how many there are, no matter how many are around you.
They do not like hardy prey.