The wind howled and his mind roared, as the car door slammed. "...s-sorry!"
Cell phone clenched in his hand as if it were a grenade, its little purple charm flapped about helplessly against the tempest as a man in his thirties stormed across the gravel pathways towards the ancestral building in the distance.
Was it always windy here? He contemplated with a grimace as his fist pummelled the neglected mahogany, "C'mon already..."
If it were possible, the house had become even more neglected since his last visit. What he had previously suspected as a mere crack in the window to his right now had a perfectly stubborn plant sprouting through it, and the garden hedges were weeping from their desperate need of attention. Was the old man still alive, even? At this rate, he was going to have to tidy the place himself.
"Open up, sir...!" Johnson fumed, his fist hammering the tired grain. "Either you let me in, or I'll have to f-force my way in... sir!"
His phone flashed up at him, 'low battery', just as the door buzzed open, and Johnson wasted no time in putting a barrier between himself and the outside. Immediately he choked on dust. Maybe it would've been better to just let this place rot. That way its lovely proprietor would feel right at-
Johnson caught himself before his thoughts carried him somewhere unpleasant. He couldn't just condemn the man, no matter how condemnable he typically was. His fingers threatening to break the phone in his hand, he marched up the spiral staircase a dusty, angry whirlwind.
The portraits of his boss' ancestors had definitely turned a blind eye by now, caked so thick with dust that they couldn't even be seen, forget be nosy. With Johnson's every polished footstep disturbing the pristine shambles, he didn't even knock.
"Boss... it's me." He announced, not even acknowledging the state of the room. "And I hate to barge in like this, but I have to-"
"Ah, excellent timing as always," the boss' breathy grunt interrupted. "Be a good boy there, and find me another wine. I'm rather bored of Bordeaux, and would rather perhaps a Pinot g-"
"In a moment, sir." Johnson's hands were shaking at his own audacity. "I have something v-v-very important to ask you!"
"More important than your pay check?" The boss tapped his long, slender fingers together. "...very well. Proceed."
Johnson took in a heavy sigh. So heavy in fact that it made him feel woozy, and he had to take another. "B-boss..." he was already stammering. "I've... I've just gotten off the phone from Camp Connect. You know, the one I let my daughter go to...?"
"I'll trust that you've mentioned it before," the boss' hand waved dismissively.
"Y-yessir, many times," Johnson chewed his tongue. "Anyway, like I was saying. I rang them up to ask when my little girl would be back in New York, so I could pick her up... and do you know what they said sir? D-d-do you-"
"I have a suspicion you're about to tell me," The old man rolled his tired eyes.
Johnson suppressed a growl. "...ungh! Yes sir, I am! Camp Connect said, and I quote, 'Mr Johnson, your daughter Lydia was never rostered on with us'! So here's my really important question, s-sir!"
An arm grasped, and swivelled the boss' armchair around. And for once, Johnson wasn't looking just fearfully at his employer;
"Do you know where my daughter is, MISTER Aster?!"
Darkness. Endless swathes of darkness glared back at the employee. Even Johnson himself had to back away from the sheer nothing reflected in his boss' face. Was there anything he cared about?
"Hah, an an inspired question indeed, Johnson," Aster's voice had taken on a harsher tone. "I believe it's time for that Pinot Grigio now, Johnson. No, in fact make it a Sauvignon. And pour yourself a glass too, boy."
"...fine," Johnson huffed. His blood was already coming close to the boil as he marched down two flights of stairs to retrieve his employer's selected bottle from the wine cellar.
"...h-here you go sir," He handed his employer the dusty bottle. "I couldn't bring another glass. I couldn't find one that wasn't all spidery."
"...I see. Well I'm not sharing a glass with you, Johnson." Aster had already filled his glass, mixing it into the dregs of its predecessor. "That's just disgusting."
"That's quite alright sir, I have to drive anyway." Johnson's stab of bravery stung like a hot poker. A bizarre, almost addictive sort of agony in the pit of his stomach.
"Suit yourself, boy..." Aster took a heavy draught from his glass.
The wind rattled at the windows outside, punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. Aster would simply nurse his wine, in front of his increasingly jumpy employee.
"...S-sir!" Johnson eventually stammered out. "Are you going to answer my question?"
"Question?" More wine trickled into Aster's glass. "Ohh, oh yes, that question. Rather a rash assumption, isn't it Johnson? That your daughter was chosen for my experiment? Wouldn't that be a conflict of interest?"
"N-not for me, sir! I wanted nothing to do with this experiment of yours in the first place!" Johnson retorted. "But my daughter is missing, just one week after those damn watches were sent out, and I think that's just too much of a coincidence... sir!"
"Ahaa, and you're here to tell me that young... Lydia, was it? That you've exhausted every other option, and she's not simply lying in a ditch somewhere in Pennsylvania, a mere victim of chance? A vulnerable prize for some lowlife? One who exhausted her options?"
Johnson reacted before his mind could process the consequences. One swing of his arm saw the glass propelled from his boss' hand, and into the adjacent wall with a shatter.
"...that was my last good glass," Aster remarked with a noted sigh, and simply picked up the bottle instead.
"H-how... could you be so careless?" Johnson's hands were shaking. "After all these years of tireless service, the lawsuits, the back-alley jobs, the deception... you still have no respect for me? After all I've done for you?!"
"Calm yourself Johnson, I have plenty respect for you," wine sloshed at the bottom of his bottle. "I just believe that perhaps you should apply some logic to a situation before instantly accusing your employer. Foolish would be an under-"
"Well maybe you should give me a real answer instead of a political one, sir!" Johnson rounded on his boss. "I'll be blunt sir, as I encourage you to be; is my daughter Lydia trapped inside that... that damned game of yours?!"
Aster's free hand shot forwards, and grasped at his employee's neck. "You want blunt, Johnson? Well I suppose that can be arranged."
Johnson scrabbled and spluttered to remove the claw-like appendage that was clutching at his windpipe, as Aster merely took another lengthy draught of wine.
"Now take a good look at this screen, Johnson," Aster rotated the computer screen towards his hapless employee. "Let us play devil's advocate, and assume your daughter Lydia is in here. Would you care to find her?"
The grip on his throat was released, and Johnson crumpled to his knees. His lungs were burning, his eyes were streaming and his throat was sore, but if there were any chance of finding his daughter, it was being shown to him. So he collapsed upon the screen to find... symbols? Percentage signs, pointy bracket things, dashes, and a whole load of numbers.
"I...I can't read this, sir."
"Precisely," his boss audibly sneered. "So tell me, Johnson. Which bit of data would you rather save? This section here? This bunch of numbers? Or how about this rather attractive nest of symbols here? I must remind you that any change in the coding could very well endanger countless lives. After all, who knows what-"
"YOU know, s-sir!" Johnson again plucked up some courage. "You wrote all this! So surely you can tell what's what?!"
"Perhaps I can, Johnson. But who am I to decide what bit of data is most important?" Said Aster. "Besides, I've had far too much wine to be concentrating on delicate coding w-"
"Are you telling me, sir," Johnson interrupted his boss. "That you are willing to keep all these people, your own grandson included, trapped in there?"
"Well it's an extremely delicate balance, this world of mine," The boss glugged down more wine. "Like I said, even the slightest change in coding could prove catastrophic. So I'm not about to let you play Hero, got that Johnson?"
There was a smash as Johnson backed into the table, knocking a photo frame to the floor. Falling to his knees, the man grasped at his face, eyes wide. "S-so you're telling me, sir, that there's nothing that can be done? No way that these poor kids can be saved?!"
"Of course there is, Johnson. There's just nothing we can do, aside from sit back and watch the magic unfold." Aster clicked a few buttons on his keyboard, and the coding was replaced with a bunch of charts and statistics. "After all, it would be despicable for a scientist to fabricate results. Wouldn't it, boy?"
Johnson raised a hand to his mouth. "...okay then, sir. I-I understand."
"Good. I'm glad you understand. We took a while, but we got there eventually."
"Y-yeah, eventually," Johnson forced a smile. With a flourish, the man fled from that dusty old man in his dusty old house. Slamming the door to a surprisingly calm evening, Johnson's grip tightened on the phone in his hand.
"...y-yeah, police?" He grimaced. "I've got something you guys might wanna hear."
"Raaaagh!"
A murderous roar thundered, followed by a petrified shriek. The creature's enormous fist smashed into the plateau, scattering rocks everywhere. Between them, a young girl dodged desperately, hugging a bloodied bundle to her chest. Her breath was coming in hitches, and her legs burned from exhaustion, but there was no white knight to save her from this furious Rhydon. With another swing of its massive arm, it loosed several more boulders into the sky, raining chunks of rock down upon her!
"No no, please...!" The girl was tripping over her own feet in her bid to get away. There was a hop, a skip, and a stumble as a shower of sharp rocks flurried past her. Gravity robbed her of her balance, and her ankle paid the price, twisting under her weight.
"D-don't you worry Momo, I'll get us... s-safe!" She gasped, staggering away the best a busted ankle would let her. "J-just gotta... get to safety!"
Vision blurry from tears, sweat, nausea, the whole deal, the girl looked around for anything that would provide shelter. But in this endless savanna, there was nothing a tree could do to stop an angry Rhydon. That was just asking for trouble.
So into the nearest rock formation she bundled. Sharp and dirty rocks were not the best of company, but it definitely seemed preferable to being eaten alive by a Rhydon. She just had to hope against hope that it was stupid.
The ground shook with each footstep Rhydon took towards her location. Her heart was going to give her location away, it was beating that fiercely. It was tested again when the creature smashed its body into the pile of rocks, loosing several from the ceiling of her sanctuary and threatening to turn it into her grave. Were it not for the fist in her mouth - the teeth marks embedded in her knuckles - she would've screamed.
Suddenly, another enemy rappelled down from the roof of the cave. Fangs glistening in the limited light, the Spinarak didn't look any happier about its rude awakening as it hissed at the teenager.
"Sshh... shh!" She shivered out a response at it, really not wanting to fend it off as well. But another shriek escaped her system as Rhydon did the same. Its rugged body smashed into the little cave, and dropped more rocks onto the floor.
"Oh no!" The girl squeaked, and quickly scooped up the Spinarak before a rock could end it. More dust and dirt was shaken loose. This cave was going to collapse any second. Tears stung in her eyes; she was going to die here. She, Momo, and this poor dumb Spinarak were all doomed, and it was all her fault. Her fault for thinking she could handle it out here, alone. That the tough training would help Momo grow strong and evolve.
She cradled her bloodied mess of a Pokémon, and could do nothing to stem the flow. This was it. She could hear the Rhydon's heavy breathing just outside, looming ever closer. Her breathing was so sharp that it hurt. Despite the heat of the day, she shivered. Every body part she possessed was dripping with sweat. And Rhydon's shadow swallowed up the last of her daylight.
It let out a low, juddering growl, almost laughlike. The. There was a roar, and suddenly, more light fluttered into her cave as the Rhydon was knocked back!
The girl's eyes bolted ever wider as a rough grinding noise tore through the cave. She let the Spinarak go again, and dared creep closer to the mouth, only to have to shield her eyes as a flurry of sparks shot past!
A suppressed squeak escaped her lips, as a small metal Pokémon- definitely a steel type - surrounded the Rhydon's arm. It attempted and failed a lunge at the thing, which only ground itself against Rhydon's elbow joint. More sparks were spat out, and an actual scream escaped the girl. Rhydon was quick to follow in her example as the forearm was completely sawed off by the Steel Pokémon!
"Rhaaaashh!"It shrieked into the sky, as its rocky forearm thudded to the ground. Dark green, almost oily looking blood spurted out of the joint, and fury shone in Rhydon's face as it aimed a clumsy left arm swing at its metallic opponent.
"Klang, evade!" Came a voice, and the Steel Pokémon responded in barely a split second, weighting itself on one side and revolving out of the way as Rhydon's arm came crashing down beside it. Klang took the chance to spin its gears again, and left Rhydon with a painful looking friction burn across its face. The beast swung again at it and missed spectacularly, then lost its other arm as punishment. The limb crashed to the floor, and Rhydon's breathing was becoming more ragged by the minute.
"Watch for an Earthquake!" The faceless trainer called from wherever they were hiding, and sure enough the Rhydon responded in kind, jumping into the air and letting gravity do the work for it. Rhydon's weight creased the ground beneath it, sending out powerful shockwaves that once again threatened a cave-in for the girl.
But Klang smoothly evaded the cracking ground and vaulted off a raised ledge, tightening itself around Rhydon's neck. The monster gurgled, and more sparks flew between the two, but it was powerless to stop itself from disappearing in a flash of blue sparkles.
With a gentle jingle, the Rhydon's drop fell to the floor, and the girl dove back further into her safety cave as footsteps crunched across the gravelly ground to retrieve it.
"Protector... makes sense I guess," the surprisingly high voice muttered to themselves. "Looks like we're selling it then. Ahh well. Good work today Klang. That was a tough one."
"K-lannnn-g!" His Pokémon sparked in response, and the trainer audibly span around on one foot to carry on with wherever they were going. But wait! They were her hero! She couldn't just let them go un-thanked!
"W-w-waiiit!" She cried, stumbling out of the cave and almost tripping over her own feet in the process. The footsteps ceased.
"Th-thank you, whoever you are!" She shouted up at the sky, her eyes scrunched shut. She peered upwards, daring to sneak a peak at her valiant knight, only to find that they weren't as tall as she expected, "I-I was really in a bind back there, because my Pokémon isn't very strong, a-and I was stupid to train out here, and-and you, s-saved... oh."
Her eyes finally met his, only for her to find out that he was a head shorter than her. Oh.
"B-but you're tiny," her voice was a notch lower than before.
"What, you were expecting a towering giant?" The blonde midget frowned at her.
"W-well, actually..." the girl's expression was withering more and more with every word she said now. "I-I was kinda hoping it'd be all romantic, and that I'd find some true... forget about it. Grownup stuff, a kid like you wouldn't understand."
"Pff," the boy scorned. "You're still a kid yourself. And I didn't even know you were here until you burst from that cave and screeched at me."
"...ugh," the teenager's last dim hope just went out. "So what were you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"...training." Said the blonde. "Isn't that what everyone's doing?"
"Training?" The teen grimaced at him. "How's a brat like you get that good?"
"Or maybe you're just shit, princess." The boy's words were venomous. "Anyone can be good at this. It just takes a bit of... know how."
"Y-yeah," the girl held her Pokémon tighter still. "Hey umm... sorry about calling you a brat. And a midget."
"You didn't call me a midget," the blonde boy's eyes narrowed.
"I...I kinda did in my head," she glanced away from his sharp blue eyes.
"Well, you were being honest at least," the boy sighed. "I take it you're about to ask for a favour?"
"How did-" she exclaimed.
"Why apologise to someone unless you need something from them?" The boy explained. "What's your name anyhow? Where you from?"
The girl took a startled step back at his sudden ask. "...Lydia, New York. Y-you?"
"...Max," the boy responded. "Used to live in Jersey, but then moved to Kentucky when I was nine. Sucks..."
"Pff, better than living in Jersey," Lydia scoffed, twirling a finger through her thick, dark curls. "Be glad you escaped that cess-"
"I liked Jersey, thank you." Max stomped his foot. "We lived in the city, and it my Grampa was only a state away, so he was easy to visit. Now he's like a whole day away instead of just a couple hours..."
Lydia gulped. "H-hey sorry, I didn't wanna make you upset. It was just a joke, alright? Besides, I know how you feel. My dad works for this freaky old guy out in PA, and my mom lives all the way out in Nebraska, so I'm like, always travelling between the two, and never see either of them, and-"
-you were wanting a favour?" Max interjected. "Fascinating as I'm sure your family issues are, I kinda need to get back to my training."
"...right!" Lydia ignored the sting. "We kinda got distracted there huh? I-I was wondering if you could help me get back to a centre? My little Eevee here ain't doin' so well, and-"
Max thrust an arm to his left. "That way. Maybe half an hour's walk."
"B-but!" Lydia tugged on the boy's hoodie before he could waltz off, "But I can't fight anything! Not with Momo in this condition!"
"...you named it Momo?" Max frowned. "A-anyway, not my problem. You should've thought of that before you decided to train out here."
"But wait! Don't leave me out here alone...!" Lydia dragged her feet. "I need... I need help. I'll pay you if you help me get back? I-I don't have much, but-"
She dug into her rucksack and desperately retrieved what little coin she could scrape up, however no sooner had she pulled out a half-handful was it knocked to the ground by Max. The dozen or so coins jingled across the savannah, and Lydia was about to dive on them, scoop them all up again, when she noticed what Max was holding.
"...I'm feeling charitable, so here. Just take it." He proffered a Hyper Potion. Without leaving her knees, Lydia received the aerosol from him.
"B-but-" she stammered, eyes gleaming.
"Consider it a loan." Max explained. "Promise me you'll survive and pay it back huh?"
"You want me to promise you I'll survive? Yet you're passing up a paid training opportunity?" Lydia frowned. "You're a strange kid, you know that?"
"Escort missions are a drag..." Max groaned, and tightened the strings on his hood before stalking away from the teen.
"...thank you for everything!" Lydia felt obliged to shout after him. He stopped for a moment, and continued without a word, his Klang floating after him diligently.
Suddenly, solitude crept up on her again. "O-Oh yeah!"
Carefully carefully, she bundled her blood-soaked t shirt onto the ground and unwrapped it, "Hey there, babygirl..."
Her Eevee was a tousled, pitiful mess. Deep claw marks had turned its midriff to ribbons, its fur all rough and matted together from a stomach blanching amount of dried blood. The thing twitched; Lydia let out the biggest of gasps. Her hand shook vigorously as she held onto the Hyper Potion.
Relief washed over her like the new tide as the healing spray worked its magic. The dried blood was loosened and washed out of Eevee's fur. The awful gash to its midriff was cleaned up a little bit. There was an audible crack as something about its chest snapped back into place. Life was breathed back into the poor thing.
"Oh, Momo..." she sobbed into its fur, "you had me so scared...!"
"Vee..." Eevee's breath drew out slowly. The little furball's eyes fluttered open, and it found the strength to wiggle back onto its feet. It span around in confusion once, and then tripped over again. "Veeyah?!"
"Whoa whoa, careful honey!" Lydia caught Eevee before it could hurt itself again. "Don't, you, scare me like that again, okay? I can't lose you, Momo..."
And Eevee was in danger of being squished from how tight her trainer was hugging it. But despite it all, a tiny purr emanated from its depths. Eevee was lifted up, so its dewey-eyed trainer could meet its gaze.
"Do you forgive me?" She gave a wet sniff.
"Eevee...?" The little Eevee mewled, and then began aggressively licking its trainer's face.
"Ewww...hoo-hoo-hahahah...!" Lydia burst into a giggle, "Aww, what did I ever do to deserve you?"
She rest the purring fluffball over her shoulder, and glanced around. "Was it... that way? Or this way?"
Lydia Johnson grimaced. Maybe she should've listened to that Max kid earlier.
"...that way," she made up her mind at last. Purrball in arms, she picked a direction. Right or wrong, she and Momo were very much alive!