"Shit!" Matt cursed under his breath as he thought about the events that led him to his current situation.
He had found the boy he spent the last three-and-a-half weeks tracking from Mistralton all the way here to Undella. Responding to a report of a sighting at the party hosted in the Riches' Villa, he had left Anne at the eastern shoreline to scope things out. Sure enough, the boy was there. Along with Jane Doe. After relaying his location to Anne, he had procured a butler's uniform from one of the mansion's caretakers—realizing that the mansion was now housing an abducted child and the criminal who had whisked him away, the staff was more than cooperative, willing to allow Matt in undetected until assistance from the other Rangers and Undella Police arrived, offering to help however they could. And then they appeared.
"Alright! Anyone try anything stupid, and this whole place is coming down! Do what we say, and you'll all be just fine!" The apparent leader of the Team Plasma members spoke loudly, ensuring that everyone in the ballroom could hear her. Six others were littered through the room—one at each of the three doorways, and the other three scattered through the center area of the room. The ones at the doors were each accompanied by a Pokémon—the one at the north entry had a Garbodor, the guard on the east side was with a Liepard, and the west guard stood beside a Bisharp. The six grunts and the Leader all wore trainer's belts, each with a full rack of Pokeballs.
'And here I am, with only Max!' Matt thought angrily to himself. While the Herdier was quite capable in battle, there was no way it could take on 42 Pokémon, especially if they all were as imposing as the three by the doorways.
'I radioed Anne nearly twenty minutes ago! Where the hell is back-up!?'
What he didn't know was that while Anne had relayed his findings to the other Ranger teams and the Undella Police, the responding personnel had all made their way towards the Villa—right into the hands of Group 2.
"Lefty, hit it with an Air Slash and try to break through! We've got to get to Matt!" Anne called out. The Unfezant was struggling—but with two against one, she expected it to get rough. A Scrafty and Seviper proved to be a quite troublesome pairing for her strongest partner. The only reason it hadn't been knocked out already was her being able to be a second set of eyes for it, telling it when the second Pokémon was launching an attack from out of sight and how the proud bird needed to evade. Thankfully, it trusted her enough to act as soon as she spoke—it seemed like it didn't even think about what was said, simply acting almost on reflex. And that saved it from several brutal hits. The bird flew into position to launch its offensive. Whipping its wings forward viciously, a blade of air hurtled towards its target. The Scrafty was able to evade—the Seviper, however, was struck and sent reeling back towards the Plasma grunt commanding it.
"Scrafty, Hi-Jump Kick!" The dark-type reacted, getting a running start as Lefty rebounded from its attack. As it closed the gap, it leapt high into the air towards the Unfezant, kicking its foot forward and landing the blow square on the bird's chest. Lefty was launched back, landing hard on the roadway.
"Lefty!" The bird quickly rolled over, getting back to its feet with a fierce cry and taking to the air again.
"Heads-up!" Anne called out, throwing a Hyper Potion to her exhausted partner. The bird caught the bottle in its beak, its eyes fixed on the Scrafty closing in. As the dark type came at it with a Headbutt, the bird dodged. It crushed the container, drinking the potion as it spilled out, restoring its strength.
"Lefty—up!" The bird instantly shot upwards just as the Seviper's tail came slicing in from the left, narrowly avoiding the attack. It doubled back towards Anne, gaining some ground to get both foes in sight.
'Damn it!' Anne cursed to herself, trying to lay a plan to overtake her enemy. 'Even after this, he still has four more Pokémon left!' Her hand rested on the two Pokeballs on her belt.
'But if I call these guys out, it's still three on six! We can't afford to lose!' Her eyes shot to the sky for a moment, several Klinklang moving through the air over the town. She had tried to fly in with Lefty before the Klinklang nearly blasted them down. They were controlling the airspace, blocking anyone from flying past their perimeter. The area around the Villa was completely cut off.
"Alright, Lefty—are you ready?" Anne asked, a strained smile on her face. The Unfezant let loose a shrill cry.
"LET'S GO!" Anne shouted as the bird charged in.
"HEY, LOSERS!" The voice rang out, loud and clear, through the enormous ballroom of the Villa. Matt froze—he remembered the voice. Looking across the room, he saw Adam step to the front of the crowd near the south wall on the western side. The room was divided into two groups, now—the Plasma team had positioned themselves in the center, and the people of the party had separated into two crowds on either side of the three Plasma members. The grunts guarding the doors were outside of these two crowds, with the north guard centered on the northern wall. Following the boy's stare, Matt saw two of the three grunts in center heckling a younger girl for her jewelry.
"You gotta' pick on a girl to make yourselves feel strong? Talk about pathetic!" Matt was almost surprised—whether it was surprise at the boy's bravery, or his stupidity for insulting two Plasma grunts in the middle of a hold-up, he wasn't quite sure. Regardless, the two grunts weren't pleased with the trash-talk.
"Eh?" one of them replied. "What was that, pipsqueak?!" The grunt stormed over towards the boy, picking up a glass of water with his left hand from the beverage table as he passed by. The boy simply grinned.
"You heard me—I said you're—" A sharp thud seemed to echo through the otherwise silent ballroom as Adam was knocked to the floor, the grunt pounding his clenched fist into the side of the boy's face.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" the grunt taunted, leaning over the boy. "I couldn't quite hear you, boy!" Snickering, the other two grunts across the hall and the Leader turned away, continuing their hold-up. From the corner of his eye, Matt saw movement in the crowd. Turning to see, he watched a young woman step out from the crowd, approaching the grunt from behind as he stood over the boy.
'Jane Doe!' Matt thought to himself. There was no doubt—she was dead-on for the composite sketch drawn up from the boy's neighbors' reports.
"Ha! Don't think that since you're wearin' a nice lil' dress suit, that you're somehow better than me! You're about fifteen years too early to talk down to me, runt!" The Plasma grunt put his boot on top of the boy's head, pushing it to the floor with a laugh. But Matt's stare was locked on Jane Doe.
'Somethin's about to go down.' The thought just echoed through Matt's mind as he saw Jane Doe's face. Her expression was livid—her eyes seemed to be burning with rage. Before he could even begin to think of how to try and undermine the situation, to get the boy away from the present danger, she made her move.
"Worthless garbage…" Her words were soft, but anger flooded them. Hearing the voice behind him, the Plasma grunt turned slightly to face her, finally lifting his boot from Adam's skull. As he turned, a hand gripped him by the left shoulder, forcing him around.
"Wha—" Before he could even finish, the woman stepped forward, leaned in, and forcefully exhaled on him. An intense pain flooded the man as the water in his glass instantly turned to steam, his face, neck, and shoulders erupted into an overwhelming burning sensation. The very air felt on fire—breathing in to scream, his throat instantly began stinging, and he couldn't even make a sound. The glass shattered in his hand. The woman stepped to the left, to the front of the grunt, with a swarm of dark energy surrounding her hand. Drawing back, the woman threw the dark blob forward, catching the grunt in the stomach with it. The sound of the blow echoed through the hall with a dull thud as the grunt was sent flying through the air. The other grunts, curious about the sound, turned just in time to see their partner flying towards them, landing hard on his back on the line of tables filled with appetizers and dishes of prepared food and bouncing off, landing face-down nearly at their feet.
"What the hell!?" another grunt exclaimed, kneeling beside the motionless body on the floor. "Hey, are you al—" He went silent as he rolled his partner over. His face was burned—covered in blisters that spread from his forehead down his face, across his neck, and all over his left shoulder. A burning feeling ran through the second grunt's hand, lifting his hand away. Melted polyester came with it—his partner's uniform was melted to his skin. Then, he noticed. The man was no longer breathing. Speechless, he looked up to the other grunt beside him, and their Leader, both with horrified expressions on their faces. Horror gave way to anger, and the three quickly returned their stares back to where their former partner had been standing.
Cyan was kneeling beside Adam, who was still sitting on the floor. Looking at his face—specifically, at his cheek where the grunt had struck him—she held her hand softly against his other cheek.
"Adam! Are you alright?" she questioned, an unusual urgency in her voice. The boy turned slightly to face her, his eyes slightly watered.
"I'm fine," he said meekly. "It just hurts." The woman pulled him to her, clutching him tightly.
"Forgive me, Adam…forgive me…" the woman whispered as she slowly eased her grip on him, pulling away slightly.
Matthew stood, like the rest of the crowd in the ballroom, dumbfounded by what had just happened.
"HOW DARE YOU!" Cyan's voice was flooded with anger as she snatched her head to the side, staring at the Plasma members across the room from over her shoulder. She slowly stood up, allowing her hand to slide away from the boy's face as she slowly walked away from him, her hateful stare locked on Team Plasma.
"Shut up, lady!" one of the grunts shouted. "You think you're gonna' do something, huh? See how you like this!" The grunt pulled one of the Pokeballs from his belt, releasing a Krookodile into the room. The woman raised her arm in front of her, and a glowing orb rose up from the palm of her hand. As the orb rose higher towards the ceiling of the ballroom, the room was flooded with a bright light and a strong heat.
"What the—!?" the Plasma Leader shouted in surprise.
"I've had enough of you." Cyan's voice was cold, her eyes still locked on the group of Team Plasma members.
"Ha!" the grunt called out. "I don't know what you're tyrin' to pull, but I'm endin' it right now! Go, Krookodile! Show that hag what those teeth are for!" Obediently, the Krookodile charged, quickly closing the distance across the ballroom. As it got closer, Cyan raised her hand again, her open palm facing the rushing Pokémon, watching it through her spread fingers. As it readied to attack, it opened its large jaws as it prepared to bite down on the woman. A sudden blast of light rocked the ballroom, and a high-pitched, rapidly undulating noise filled the air. As people looked on, the Krookodile went flying backwards, a large beam of light forcing it through the air. It collided with the two Plasma grunts and their Leader, knocking them all aside. The Krookodile continued, crashing through the northern wall and taking the northern guard with it. The two grunts in center stood back up, turning back to the woman. As soon as they did, two dark blasts of energy caught them both in the chest, sending them flying back at the wall. They crashed through, as well, disappearing somewhere behind the wall. The two remaining door guards came rushing in to their Leader, helping her to her feet before looking back to the woman.
Her hair was on fire. Or rather, her hair was becoming fire. The woman's long, light blue hair had taken on a darker color, but was now a blend of discolored flames dancing about around her back. As the flames spread, they seemed to rise into the air. Everyone had moved away from her, terrified at what was unfolding before them—although, the boy she was with stayed where he had been sitting, now standing and watching what happened. The woman slowly paced back and forth, the black cloth of her dress dancing wildly around her, as though caught in fierce wind. Her fair skin was growing paler, now almost a sickly, albino white with a tinge of blue. The woman raised her arms to her sides as the same discolored fire now swarmed around her outstretched hands. She closed her eyes briefly, but when she opened them again, they were no longer the bright green that they had been. They were solid yellow—no pupil, no white, just a sickly pale yellow. A sense of dread seemed to wash over the ballroom. The remaining three Team Plasma members watched on, almost fearfully.
"What the hell is she?!" the Leader shouted, the two grunts' blank expressions telling her that they were just as afraid as she was at the ghoul before them.
"All Pokémon out!" the Leader commanded. "Take this woman down!" The three of them each grabbed all of the Pokeballs on their belts, releasing all of their Pokémon. Golbats, Zebstrikas, Watchogs, Liepards, Gurdurrs, and Absols joined the Bisharps and Garbodors, and still others. Eighteen Pokémon in the group. Looking back to the ghoul of a woman before them, facing this group of formidable Pokémon, she was simply standing there with her arms at her sides, smiling. Her lips had turned black.
"ATTACK!" the Leader ordered, and the entire group rushed forward. Spreading out as they approached, the first wave charged in to attack. Right before their hits would have connected, the woman twisted and contorted herself, dodging them all. She merely spun and twisted, but with her flaming hands she would simply touch them. One by one they erupted into her discolored fire, their cries filling the room with a twisted shriek. The remaining few Pokémon from the group tried to charge in again, some catching ablaze from hitting the burning Pokémon and others meeting their same fate, suffering a touch from the ghoul's flaming hands and being bathed in her fire. The dark energy swarmed around her hands again as she blasted the blazing Pokémon away from her. Many went through the ballroom windows and landed outside, but a few landed near the Team Plasma members. One of the grunts collapsed, his Zebstrika falling on top of him and setting him ablaze. The remaining grunt and the Group Leader quickly stepped forward to help him, but the flames kept them back. The ballroom was bathed in the blue-ish glow of the ethereal fire. All at once, the flames vanished. The grunt and Leader went to move the Zebstrika when they both realized that it had no burns.
"Zebstrika, get up!" the grunt ordered, trying to push the Pokémon back to its feet. A sudden flash of fear on his face sent chills down the Group Leader's spine as she came to the same realization trying to help him.
The Zebstrika was dead. It had no pulse. It wasn't breathing.
Glancing at the other Pokémon nearby, they noticed they were all the same. Not one of them was breathing. Not one of them had any burns or injuries.
Matt's eyes were wide open in disbelief at the scene.
'It's just like the ones at Mistralton!' the thought ripped through him like a knife. The blue-ish glow from Jane Doe's fire quickly ended his thoughts as he realized she was just behind the Plasma members.
The faint glow caught both the grunt's eye as well as the Group Leader's. Turning, they were face-to-face with the flaming ghoul. Panicked, the two backed away, trying to move backwards across the floor to get away before both hitting the body of the Bisharp. The ghoul simply followed.
"No!" the Group Leader pleaded. "Please, stop! Please!" The ghoul raised its hand as it drew back.
"PLEASE!" In one swift motion, Cyan slapped the woman, her wretched flames quickly spreading over her. On the backswing, she grazed the grunt, setting him ablaze. As the two began to scream, she reared back again with the dark energy around her hands and threw it forward in two underhanded strikes, the force launching the two Team Plasma members crashing through the windows on the east and west walls, landing outside.
As the people inside watched, the flaming ghoul seemed to sharply inhale before leaning forward and letting loose a blood-curdling shriek. From around her, veils of orange and blue-ish purple flames seemed to erupt from the ground, spiraling up to the ceiling before spreading across it and vanishing without a trace. Her scream rapidly faded into a high-pitched screech, almost a wailing sound. As she screeched, the pitch of her voice lowered slightly and she went silent, the pillars of fire around her vanishing. She looked back towards Adam, who was still standing and facing her. She ran back to him, the blue fire vanishing from her hands as her hair returned to its light blue shade and fell along her back, her yellow eyes returning to their shade of light green. The boy reached towards her, their hands clasped together, and they both ran from the ballroom out into the night.
Matt was dumbstruck. He knew, now, who Jane Doe was, or rather, what she was. Knew, but couldn't believe. It explained the trances that took over the two other missing persons. What he had seen here, was more positive evidence. Her shrieking confirmed it—it was the very same sound, the very same cry, as what he had thought was responsible for the Pokémon deaths surrounding Mistralton in the last months.
'A Chandelure?!'
