Miss-stake: A Nuzlocke Horror Story
"STAKE! STAKE! MIIIIIISTER STAKE!"
With cry of dimwitted fury, the Bayleef charged its adversary. Picking up speed, it lumbered relentlessly forward, the green-and-yellow beast closing the distance between itself and the Voltorb it faced in mere seconds. The cave that they were fighting within shuddered with each step, the coarse stone ground trembling as if afraid of what power the abominable brute held.
The Voltorb's eyes, usually narrowed in spiteful arrogance, were wide with terror.
In a few short moments, the Bayleef had made it from one end of the cave to the other. With less than a yard between it and its electric-type target, it leaped.
"MIS-"
Forced high into the air by deceptively-flabby legs of iron strength, the Bayleef ducked its head and tightened its legs to its flabby green body. It began to rotate in the air as its ascent slowed.
"-TER-"
The arc of its jump, first carrying it upward, now pulled it toward the ground once more, the initial front flip it had preformed now leading to a rapid series of successively quicker spins as it aimed at the motionless Pokémon on the ground.
"-STAAAAAAAKE!"
Its features a blur of green motion, the Bayleef let out another drawn-out cry of fury. It barreled down at the Voltorb, arc exact, target locked; a wrathful meteor striking at a mere mortal with all the fury of the heavens at its back.
Impact.
With a slam, the Bayleef's forehead - leaf on top flattened with the force of its motion - found its target between the Voltorb's eyes. Time seemed to slow as the grass-type Pokémon's headbutt hit home, a sickening crack coming from the unfortunate peon it had aimed at. First its brow shattered, then the rest of its front, the round electric-type Pokémon collapsing in on itself like a piece of pottery. The cave shook at the impact, rocks falling from the ceiling as the victor lifted itself from the shattered remains of its newly-fallen foe.
Then, as though nothing had happened – and as if it hadn't just committed grisly murder – the Bayleef trotted happily back to its trainer, shards of the Voltorb sticking to its body (though no blood seemed to come from the wounds). By the time it reached its trainer – a large dark-haired 28-year-old man in a gray shirt, brown shorts, red sneakers, and a gold-striped ball cap that struggled to contain his rather prominent brow – the shards had been absorbed. The Bayleef looked up at its trainer happily, eyes level with its mouth and filled with joy.
"TANTOR TANTOR," The man grunted, glaring at the Pokémon. The Bayleef began rubbing itself against his leg. "TANTOR!" he said again, forcing its head away.
Across the cave, a blonde man wearing a tuxedo and a red cape kneeled over the shattered remains of the Voltorb, shaking with fury. He looked up at the Bayleef, then at the trainer who'd commanded it.
"You killed my Pokémon!" he screamed, tears welling in his eyes. "He was my partner for six years!" He stood shakily, the tears now running down his cheeks. "I thought we were just battling for fun! Why would you do something like this?!"
"TANTOR." came the response from across the cave. The man was now exerting himself, struggling to keep the affectionate grass Pokémon from smothering him.
The tuxedoed man narrowed his eyes amidst tears, wiping them with his sleeve before speaking.
"Is that all you have to say?! Fine. I'm going to pay you back in kind, then." He took a Pokéball from his belt, hand trembling slightly as it grew to proper size. "This is for you, buddy."
The ball took to the air. With a flash of light it opened, discharging a large blue beetle-like Pokémon – a Heracross. It landed, kicking up a small cloud of dirt and giving off a sharp cry. Meanwhile, the thickly-built man managed to grab hold of his Bayleef's head, jerking it away from him and forcing it to face their new opponent.
"TANTOR TANTOR!" he shouted. The Bayleef glanced back at him momentarily, gurgling happily, before turning its attention back to the Heracross.
"TANTOR." came the command. Apparently understanding the man's grunt, the Bayleef charged its foe. The ground rumbled once more, small stalactites disengaging from the ceiling as it crossed the cave once more. A stalactite fell directly over the large man, barreling down on him, only to shatter on his head. He paid it no mind.
The distance began to close once again, Bayleef approaching the bug-type that still made no move. There were only a few meters between them now, the Pokémon's eyes connecting – eyes possessed of simple fury met with an unmoved, calculating gaze.
"TANTOR!" the man shouted. The Bayleef lowered its head in response, lining up another devastating headbutt-to-be. The large man smiled with only a moment before impact.
"Megahorn."
The Heracross burst forward in a lightning-bolt of motion. In a split-second, it ducked and dove at the charging Pokémon, its impressive horn lowered. Before the Bayleef could even comprehend what was unfolding, the horn was between its front legs - then, with strength beyond that of nature, the Heracross forced its upper body from the ground, launching its grass-type adversary like a missile.
Time stopped for the Bayleef. It felt air all around it as its legs faced upward, gravity seemingly non-existent, and it pondered – just for a moment – what exactly had just happened. Then, between its eyes opening and closing – a millisecond at most - the Heracross was above it.
The horn rose, almost scraping the stone ceiling of the large cavern in slow motion. The Bayleef's eyes widened. Then, in a flash, the horn dropped.
In less than three seconds, the Bayleef had been tossed upward via horn, the Heracross bolting up beside it, then – with a resounding crack – it had brought the horn down on the Bayleef, spiking it into the ground.
The cavern seemed to jump at the impact. The tuxedoed man stumbled and almost fell, and a boulder dropped from part of the ceiling overtop of the large man across from him. His eyes focused solely on the crater his Pokémon now laid in, the man raised a single arm. Catching the slab of rock without diverting his attention, he crushed it like a ball of dirt. He didn't divert his gaze.
For a moment there was silence. The Heracross, wings unfolded, landed in front of its trainer, staring at the hole in the ground it had caused. The tuxedoed trainer grinned.
"That's what happens when you play rough, you bastard."
The bulky man took it all in. The crater; the motionless Bayleef, the Heracross, the trainer.
The trainer.
His gaze locked on the man across the cave from him, pupils shrinking as a wave of hatred began to radiate from him. His eyes didn't move, nor did they close – even for a second – as he locked sights. And at that moment, a chill ran down the blonde trainer's spine.
Without looking away from his opponent, and without saying a word, the large man slowly reached for a Pokéball clipped to his belt. A faint click echoed through the silence. The Pokéball rested in his grip, growing to its proper size in a moment. Then he threw it.
A stream of red light came from the Pokéball as it opened mid-air, light condensing and solidifying into a shape on the ground as the ball returned to his hand. A puddle of lava had come from the Pokéball, it seemed, and a sizzling came from where it was as the molten liquid bubbled. Then, like an ancient organism emerging from that storied primordial ooze of old, a small head rose from the sizzling main body of the puddle. Two eyes, two drooping whiskers of molten lava, and one gaping mouth. It was a Slugma.
The tuxedoed man stared blankly at it for a moment. Then the horror set in.
"TANTOR."
A volley of flame erupted from the Slugma's gaping maw, making its way toward the Heracross in mere seconds as its trainer let out a shriek of terror. The ball of fire reached its target, splitting off to consume it as the Heracross took flight in a desperate attempt to flee. As the flame surrounded it, the bug Pokémon loosed a high squeal of pain.
The blonde trainer jumped back from the fire, eyes awash with fear as he watched his remaining partner be consumed by the flame. New tears began to run down his face, only to vaporize in the intense heat. His clothes were beginning to char, and the air boiled around him. For a moment, the flame dipped low; and amidst the dancing tongues of the blaze he could make out the smouldering body of his partner, its shell a black crisp and its legs curled. His eyes moved upward as the Slugma let fly a stream of flame at the Heracross' corpse - and he saw it.
There, amongst the pillars of fire, his silhouette was a burning shadow. The man's lower body was unseeable, but his head; his face; his eyes – those clear white orbs, narrowed with an inexorable eldritch rage – they were unmistakable.
There was nothing in the trainer's mind as he stared at that furious spectre swaying in the blaze, naught but fear. He could feel the hatred – and it made him quiver.
The flames quickly began to die, and with them the spectre vanished, leaving only the large man in its place. The weight of his pure hatred, however, remained. His gaze was still locked on the now-defeated trainer who sat petrified against the cave wall. He began to move.
A new sense of horror took over the tuxedoed trainer as his opponent began to lumber toward him. With slow, long, deliberate steps, he advanced on the downed man, the distance between them shortening in mere seconds. However, upon reaching the charred Heracross, he paused. For a moment, his gaze left his target – looking down and focusing on the cooked bug-type before him. Another silence ensued as he stared at the corpse, the faint hiss of the blackened ground the only noise apparent. He reached for the Heracross' horn, unmindful of the fact that it would still be excruciatingly hot, and grabbed hold of it. Then, with the power of a fiend, he snapped it at the base, separating the majestic horn from its former owner.
It was at that point that the tuxedoed man did all that he could.
"H-here! You made your point, just d-d-don't hurt me!" he bleated. Scrambling as the man – now having put the horn in his mouth and begun chewing on it - turned his attention back to him, the blonde trainer hurriedly pulled several wads of Pokédollar bills from his pocket, tossing them at him. "Take it, please! T-t-twenty-thousand Pokédollars should work, right?! Please, just take them and let me go! It's all I have!" The wads of cash hit the man in the chest and landed at his feet. He stopped. Without diverting his gaze from the quivering trainer, and without ceasing his gnawing, he slowly bent down, grabbing each wad of money one by one. Standing up upon collecting them all, the man gave his defeated adversary an odd look – somewhere between confusion, pity, and disgust. Then, he stuffed the bills into his pockets, turning to the crater his Bayleef lay in.
"TANTOR TANTOR." He said over his shoulder.
For a moment, the trainer sat against the wall, stunned and silent. Then, with a last sorrowful look at his two slain partners, he got to his feet and ran. He disappeared into the shadows of the cave, searching for the way out.
Listening as the last echoes of the trainer's flight faded away to nothing, the large man let out another grunt. He'd reached the crater, looking in with beefy arms crossed and a look of utter disdain.
"S… s-s-sta… stake…"
His eyes narrowed at the sight. The grass-type Pokémon lay in the center of the small crater, surrounded by pebbles and the small rocks knocked loose by its meteoric landing. Between its limp front and back legs was a thick line of dark blue discoloration, while the rest of its body was decorated with wounds. Cuts large and small covered it, seeping a greenish fluid. Its neck, formerly long and proud, was bent at an obtuse angle, and its mouth-level eyes were shut. It managed a small, feeble whimper.
The man stared at the scene for a short while, watching the Pokémon's chest rise and fall weakly. It was still a long while to the next Pokémon Center, if his town map was to be believed, and so too would he be unable to take care of the failures as he usually did until he got out of the cave – and who knew how long that would take.
Chewing heedlessly on the blue horn, he came to a decision.
He retrieved the proper Pokéball from his belt slowly, making sure to grab it deliberately. Then, pointing it at the downed Bayleef, he pressed the button on its front.
"…Stake?"
"SHUT UP."
A beam of red light escaped from the ball, striking the side of the grass-type almost immediately. Its body turned to the same hue as the light, and within less than a moment its mass joined the beam of light as it returned into the Pokéball. It was in his grip.
The large man turned the ball in his hand, seeing how the hue reflected the dim light that came from a small hole in the cave's ceiling. He considered it, staring blankly. His grip tightened. His gaze left the ball as he looked around. The cave, filled with a multitude of stalagmites and other rock formations, was also littered with small dents in the ground, as well as a river father off. His eyes settled on a drop-off near the farthest edge of the cavern, stone ground falling away to an abyss of shadow. He began walking.
Striding to the precipice, he again looked at the Pokéball in his hand. Inside of it was Mr. Stake, the Pokémon with which he'd started his journey some time ago, back in New Bark Town.
His eyes darkened. Small cracks began to form along the side of the Pokéball, his grip on it increasing. Vice-like pressure was exerted, and, within moments, there was a creak. Then a crunch.
With a grunt, the ball was crushed. A small clump of shattered white-red glass and polished steel rested in his hand. He stared at it again. Then with a snort of derision, the crushed remains of what once was a Pokéball went sailing out over the abyss. Darkness consumed it as it fell.
An orange glow caught the man's attention as he turned from the yawning void, his deed done. The Slugma was there before him, eyes expressionless.
It had seen it all.
They stared at one another for the length of a breath.
"TANTOR." He said to it. The faintest body of what could only have been a smile played across his lips.
The light faded as they departed.
It lay there, the shattered clump of metal and glass resting unevenly on stone. There was nothing there but darkness and the faint hiss of running water somewhere very near.
Then, the darkness lessened. From beneath the circular button that had once been in the center of the Pokéball, now which sat near the top of the compressed rubbish, there came the slightest inkling of pale green light.
A green stream began to flow
Orange light filled the sky, a falling sun beckoning to its companion of nightfall. Soon, when the lengthened shadows overtook all, night would be there. But, for the moment, the fiery orb that sat just above the distant mountain ridges would provide the final light of day. The world, white clouds and all, was reduced to so many hues of orange and brown.
Also painted in the shades of sunset were a girl and her Pokémon. The slim girl, sitting near the edge of a river running from a mountain cave, was clad in knee-length overalls, a red sweater, white thigh-high socks, sneakers, and a large white hat (topped with a ribbon). A brown bag, filled with Pokéballs of varying designs and colors, lay at her side. She sat back on the soft grass of the river bank, watching with a smile as her small blue Pokémon – a Marill – splashed and played in the water. The day had been enjoyable. She'd done plenty of walking, caught a Pidgey, and beaten three different trainers.
For a moment, she allowed her thoughts to drift to Tantor, an old friend of hers. He'd set off on his own Pokémon journey a short while ago, and she'd only seen him once since then. He was probably better off now that he was by himself, though. After all, he'd always been a loner. Whereas most of the other kids of his age in New Bark Town had started their Pokémon journey at the age of ten, he wasn't able to. Instead, he'd been forced to stay behind and look after his alcoholic mother until he was almost thirty. Yes, it was certainly better for him to be out in the world.
A spray of water knocked her thoughts away. Her Marill was in the water, chirping its name habbily as it bobbed against the flow of the river. She couldn't help but chuckle.
"What do you think you're doing, mister?" she chuckled. "I thought water was supposed to stay in the river!" The circular blue mouse of a Pokémon responded with a chirp and another spray of water, this time hitting her hat. "Alrighty, then! I'm going to have to teach you some manners!" Laughing, she tossed her had to the side and jumped into the river at her Pokémon. Chirping, it dodged and splashed her again. She held up her arms to cover her face as the water hit her, laughing all the while. She jumped at the Marill, only for it to dodge again, this time leaping out of the water and taking off into the nearby field of tall grass.
"Hey! I thought the tall grass was out of bounds, Marill! Get back here!" she shouted. The only response she received was a chirp from the tall grass. Eager to get her hands on her partner Pokémon, the girl climbed back out of the river, grabbing a towel from her bag to wipe her legs off. Her socks would dry in a short while, and besides – she was going to get that Marill. After a brief pause to put her hat on and grab her bag, she set off into the tall grass.
It was clear that they were now playing hide-and-seek. The girl walked carefully through the waist-high grass, making sure to watch where she stepped in the case of wild Pokémon or uneven ground. It seemed like her Marill had an affinity for the game, based on the fact that she'd been unable to find it. Every once in a while she would shout its name, just in case it was lost, but so far she'd found neither head nor tail of her partner.
Time seemed to pass quickly as the sun reached the last part of its descent, but she'd still not found her Marill. By this point, the girl was growing concerned. It wasn't like Marill to play a game this long, especially when there was no challenge to it.
"Marill!" she shouted. "Where are you, Marill? The game's over!" She paused a moment. All she could hear was the rustling of the grass in the evening breeze. Her heart dropped. Something was wrong.
Her ears perked up. For a moment, she heard what sounded like movement a bit off to her left. She froze in place, holding her breath. A rustle, and it sounded like something moving. Could it be her Marill? She knew that the only wild Pokémon in the area were Pidgey and Rattata, and most were timid enough to run away when people came near. That left Marill as the only candidate.
Lowering her stance to walk quieter, the girl moved toward the sound. Deliberately walking so to avoid making loud noises, she pushed on toward where she'd heard it mere moments before. The dried stalks of tall grass obscured her view of what lay directly ahead, but she could feel that she was growing close.
Something moved again, this time to her right. Turning quickly, she began moving toward the newer source. The girl could almost make something out in the grass ahead of her. Pushing past the last stalks of grass, she came into a small clearing. Her Marill wasn't there, but it seemed like she was being watched by something.
"Marill, is that you?" she whispered. She could feel that something very wrong was going on, and it was obvious that she didn't want to be a part of it.
There was a rustle in the grass behind her, from which she'd stepped out into the clearing. She turned. All she could see was a mass of pale luminous green.
She screamed as it jumped at her mouth.
The large man's eyes were closed. His bag had been set on the floor beside the bed, and his lamp had long since been put out. Argent moonlight seeped into the room from the opened window, a cold shine extending to the covers of his bed. He'd been asleep since the early evening, coming into the inn at sunset and renting his room with little more than a grunt to the innkeeper and a wad of Pokédollars. His team needed the rest.
It had been a few hours since then, and he'd been sleeping the whole time. A light breeze blew in through the window, rustling the pages of a 'Trainer's Life' magazine left by the staff on the night table.
The man's eyes opened in a flash. Without moving his head from where he lay, he scanned the room. In the moonlight, he could make out most of the room. Everything was in its place, nothing out of the usual. He closed his eyes again, and drifted back to sleep.
Time passed as the night went on.
There was a noise. The man's eyes remained shut, trying to stay asleep knowing it was just the wind again.
Another noise, this time like something moving. Then, there was something on him.
Tantor's eyes shot open as he felt hands around his throat. His vision was blurry, but he could make out the shape of someone sitting on his broad chest, leaning down to choke him. He tried to inhale in a panic, but nothing reached his lungs. Panicked, he grabbed hold of the invader's arms, trying to pry them loose. They didn't move. He struggled as the grip on his throat tightened, desperately grabbing at arms like iron. He bucked to throw whoever it was off of him, but to no avail, and the grip only continued to tighten. For a moment, his vision cleared, and he saw his attacker with clarity.
On top of him, illuminated by the pale moonlight, he could see the ribbon-topped hat. And the red sweater. And the overalls. It was Lyra, one of his fellow trainers. His vision focused on her face, and his eyes widened in stark terror.
Two trails of pale green liquid came from either side of her mouth, widened in a wide, manic smile as she choked him. More than that, however, he could see her eyes.
They were level with her mouth.
As his consciousness began to fade, the man could see dark spots forming in his vision. Darkness filled his eyes as he heard something. It came out somewhere between a cough, a moan, and a giggle, but he heard it regardless.
"...Stake... Mer… Merrstaaaaake…"