"Razor Leaf!" the Ace Trainer yelled, sending his Ivysaur rushing into battle.
"Ice fang," Silver said, his Croconaw outclassing his foe in level and speed. With vicious jaws, Croconaw ripped into Ivysaur, shooting crackling ice across the pokemon's green foliage and felling him instantly. "A team full of Kanto starters?" Silver laughed. "What?... Do you have a Pikachu in there, too?"
"Arrogant little...!" the Ace Trainer hissed with outrage, mumbling as he decided which pokeball to bring out next.
Silver carefully plotted as he chose his next pokemon. Gastly's evolutionary line is unusually fast, right? he thought; Yes, Lyra said something like that... He glanced down at Croconaw. It's strange. No matter what, I can't seem to forget the things she tells me. Her beliefs about strength and... trust. She said I only have to trust, but I'm still unsure about what to do. Circling back to her words, Silver recalled their parting minutes before. When he had asked her about the things she'd claimed earlier, she had given him yet another senseless answer—an answer that only continued to baffle him even now.
"You're lucky this still works," Lyra had said, her scuffed pokegear in hand. "Really lucky. Any last words?"
While he had watched her feel around in the grass, looking for that unimportant phone, a single question rattled his thoughts. "How does one even trust something?" he had asked. "If it's a feeling... what is it?"
"Is your head broken?" She dusted off her pokegear. "Next you'll be asking me what breathing feels like! I know you're sharper than that, Rival."
Silver found her answer infuriating and pretentious. If she knew so much, then why couldn't she just tell him? "If it's so simple, then why can't you just explain it with one sentence? Is that beyond your ability? Or are you just giving me random stupid advice with no meaning?"
At this, Lyra grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket. "Look back, way behind yourself... Inside the you from before the you you are now! And tell me, Rival! When was the last time you ever felt happy," she had asked, "around the person you looked up to?"
Silver flinched, grabbed by both her words and her grip. It was one last bit of warmth from her.
The last time he was happy was when...
His thoughts returned to the present. Was she even aware of what I was thinking? he wondered. Because that probable time, I think, was right then, or maybe several minutes before then. No... wrong! Admitting it to himself again only made it worse. Why do I think about stupid things with her? I almost confessed to her right then and there... But there's no way my answer would have been right. I'm sure. Even more, there's no way she was even waiting for my response. She maybe... wanted me to search my own memories. To find the answer. From the me I was... before the me I am now.
Silver's knees still burned from the tumble after Lyra had thrown him to the ground, right before she straddled Aerodactyl and took off again. Dirt kicked up into my eyes as she flew off. Abandoning me.
I really... hate her.
And how every person—in this way—leaves me behind.
"D-damn it!" the Ace Trainer bellowed, breaking Silver's thoughts. "You shut up about this! No laughing, okay?" Biting his lip, the trainer threw down his last pokeball.
A fat, yellow blob popped out. "Pika-chu?" he asked, flicking its big ears.
Silver closed his eyes and threw back his head, gritting his teeth to keep himself from laughing. "I had you pegged," he managed out. "Another Champion Red wannabe. Must be hard to break the mold!"
"Am NOT!" The Ace Trainer stomped. "And I said shut up!"
"Whatever." Silver stopped smirking and frowned. "You're all so predictable... At least TRY to give me a good distraction... Other trainers are painful stereotypes." Recalling Croconaw, he sent out Haunter. You're so obvious, I already knew you had a Pikachu, he thought. And I already knew you'd send it at Croconaw once your Ivysaur failed. And before all, I knew Haunter was faster than your Pikachu before you even knew that you were losing! All of you, you faceless trainers who litter this pointless landscape... You leave nothing to the imagination! And it leaves me with way too much time to ponder crazier things... Things I want to take my mind off of!
"Pikachu!" the Ace Trainer cried. "Thunderbolt!"
"You," Silver said, glancing sidelong at Haunter; "Shadow Ball." Looking back at Silver, Haunter smiled with gusto and then tightened his fists, all before facing the enemy with gleaming expectations. Caught off-guard by this familiar expression, a small memory flitted into Silver's eyes and he saw his past self reflected in the ghost. It was Silver's memory, of his father's hand reaching out and patting his younger self on the head. "As expected," the man had said, "you did well."
Silver gulped, not sure what this memory meant—or the glowing, shiny feelings involved. Even though he turned his back on me, and never looked twice at me, I always strove for that praise he gave once. His trust. That was all Silver wanted and probably ever needed from that selfish old man. That was... the last instance of my past happiness.
The foe's Pikachu rolled, shrieking and begging for the end as Haunter's dark energy blast bore down on him. Before his startled trainer's eyes, the Pikachu gasped and fainted.
Now knowing what Lyra meant, but shaken by his own recollection, Silver reached a hand out to Haunter but stopped midway. Touching a ghost pokemon was never pleasant. Too much shivering involved. "Good... good job," Silver admitted awkwardly, unable to emulate his father's cool words.
For a brief second, Haunter closed his eyes and a pink glow spread across his transparent cheeks.
Silver almost gagged. How can something so lifeless look so happy? he wondered, stricken speechless. A creature that follows you so blindly? But if praise made strength, he'd gladly use it. Anything to win.
"You're our last hope!" the Ace Trainer called out his next pokemon: "Lapras, go!"
Silver had selected Magnemite before the foe was even ready. "Magnemite, Thunder wave!" Silver said. "I trust you can win... no matter what. This is why you're here!" Magnemite, who was regularly half-hearted in battle, sparked brilliantly for once and faced the enemy with sharp eyes and a fiercely-grinding sine-wave cry.
Somehow, it's working, Silver thought, and all because of some meaningless words... Empty flattery. Battle cries. A tool for winning... Now, he almost pitied Lyra for allowing him to emulate her success. "Make short work of him. Thundershock!" Silver said, complacent with his new ability.
Flailing from the flashing shock waves, Lapras collapsed on his side and Magnemite hovered over him, still buzzing with a new sense of pride and determination.
"No..." The Ace Trainer fell to his knees, the wager of their bet hanging over him. "Impossible..."
"Imagine that! You lost," Silver said matter-of-factly. "This means your badges are mine."
The Ace Trainer planted his face into the ground and choked pitifully.
"Humph. Are you going to cry?" Silver asked, cold to this emotional display; "How amusing. Go ahead, I never get sick of seeing this scene. Just like so many before you—"
"—That's enough..." the Bug Catcher said, standing up to Silver; "You may have won the bet, but you're taking it too far. That's just cruel... He has hopes and dreams, too. You're a jerk, but... neither of us would've said such hurtful things to you!"
Silver observed this trainer: he was no taller than his straw hat was wide, a tiny boy who could barely even lift his giant bug net. What was he even trying to do? Was he attempting to defend a guy twice his size? How comical! It took Silver everything he had to keep from laughing. "What a good little citizen you are," Silver said, upturning his nose to them. "Reminding me that I'm, regretfully, still human." He then shot a scowl at the Ace Trainer. "Hand over your badges, loser."
The badge case was obediently shoved into Silver's hand.
"It's amazing how you won these when you're SO weak," Silver remarked, glancing into the case. "Tch. You must've had luck on your side, and of course you tried your very hardest... Shame. I almost want to show you mercy... but I know it would only hurt your miserable pride." He selected the Mineral Badge from its collection and tucked it into his leather billfold. It was the only badge he needed. All the others were useless repeats. He huffed in relief. Now he didn't have to make the trip back to Olivine City—which he had been dreading for various reasons. Mostly Jasmine.
"Shut up! You don't know me!" the Ace Trainer spat back in defiance. "So cocky... I could easily beat you up! But I'm a man of my word. Don't go thinking you're better than me!"
The Bug Catcher clenched his fists and glared up at Silver.
Silver had to admit this was very entertaining. "Is that so?" he asked. "Then how about one last round to make things interesting?" He smacked the newly-won badge case closed and twirled it in-hand. "A test of character... Since these are mine now, I can do whatever I want with them. Isn't that right?" With a step forward, he leaned over the Bug Catcher and pushed the badge case at him. "Of course... So I've just decided. I'll give these badges to this kid. Now he can do whatever he wants with them! Think about that." Silver simpered as the child took the case. "For once in your life, you own so many badges... And what's this?" He glared into the wavering Bug Catcher's glassy, soul-searching pupils. "You have absolutely no obligation to give them back to that guy! Well. How about that?"
The Ace Trainer watched fiercely as the Bug Catcher held the case in his tiny, trembling hands.
"Is that hesitation I see?" Silver asked. "Or do you understand now?"
The Bug Catcher clutched the badge case close to his chest, unwilling to let go.
"Y-you're just going to listen to him?" the Ace Trainer stammered, bewildered by this betrayal. "You're not going to give them back to me?"
The Bug Catcher turned. Any friendliness between the two had vanished alongside the roadside dust.
I couldn't have planned this any better, Silver thought. This truly is... the selfishness of ambition. This is what drives us forward and apart! Affectionate words are just decoration for our self-serving actions. We're never safe from each other. Only fools refuse to own up to this.
"Always remember this feeling." Silver's mouth twisted into a smile. "That'll be all, wimps." He walked off, continuing on his way to Mt. Mortar for the rest of the noon.
Traversing the cavern nonstop for most of the evening, Silver stopped for a breather. Eyeing the echoing, night-black expanse above, he pulled and straightened the bottom of his jacket and continued on. Mt. Mortar, hm? This isn't so tough, he thought; I've heard so many bad stories about this cave that I figured it'd be some kind of death trap. But of course, I'm breezing right on through... Nothing big EVER lives up to its hype.
In truth, Silver had been wandering around in circles for the past four hours. And he was totally lost. Not that he'd ever recognize it.
This is probably the way out right now! Silver thought, grasping a high ladder and climbing up through a vertical tunnel. With each step he took, the sound of rushing water became clearer and louder. There's no daylight ahead... Strange. I could've sworn this was an exit... Humph. I'd better not be going deeper into this stupid cave.
When Silver climbed out from the tunnel, however, his fear was confirmed. He found himself high atop a cliff—and directly in a spot from which he could see all the places he'd been. But despite this, he still had NO idea where he was! The cave's monstrous waterfall roared beside him, hypnotically drowning out this frustration. Far below, an exit leading to daylight peeked out from among speck-sized boulders. It would take a steep, one kilometer jump past an escarpment of brutally sharp rocks to reach it like this. Silver considered that Lyra would likely jump such a gap, but he was still hesitant. Luckily, he noticed a stairway leading halfway down. It appears I can walk further... Perfect, he thought; This will greatly reduce the jumping distance. I think I just might make it... He stopped despite his desperation to leave. So if I jump at the bottom here, I'll—
"—Die," a deep voice said, elaborating on Silver's thought; "A painful, blood-entrenched death... splattered amongst the skin-grated stones below... Brains everywhere. Hoi. I saw it."
Silver nearly jumped off in terror, but steeled himself in order to locate the voice's source. At the base of the stairway's cliff sat a familiar, blond young man.
"Creepy Idiot Gym Leader!" Silver called, recognizing him.
"Yes, but I think 'Demon King' sounds more poetic," Morty admitted, licking a plastic spoon. "Or Master."
It didn't take long for Silver to realize that there was yet another strange blond man nearby. It was a red-caped Juggler, humming happily to himself while flipping through a red and white binder.
A Juggler? Silver thought; Is that. Could it... Nah. It couldn't be. Silver scoffed, focusing his attention back on Morty, who was ferociously digging at something drippy with his plastic spoon. He was eating. Out of a commercial-sized bucket. Of premium diary ice cream.
"What the hell is THAT?!" Silver blasted, pointing at him.
"Mint and chip," Morty said, slapping the bucket and feasting upon yet another spoonful.
"I wasn't asking about the FLAVOR, bucket-face! It was a rhetorical question! What I meant was, what kind of grown man allows himself to eat such a buttload of sugar in the middle of such a huge ass CAVE?!"
"For a shrimp, you sure can vocalize," Morty said before adding, "and that's just how I roll. If you've got a problem with it, go jump off a cliff."
"No way, you just said I would DIE."
"Ah!" the Juggler exclaimed, finally glancing up at Silver; "You sound sort of familiar. Like... I've talked to you before!"
"Oh God." Silver face-palmed. That sickening voice. Silver recognized it immediately. So he IS that Juggler... The one who's been stalking Lyra! Silver cracked his knuckles and looked upon his prey murderously. This means one thing. It's neck breaking time.
"Oy, shrimp... I'm trying to enjoy my ice cream here," Morty intoned, staring at Silver with unwavering, death-defying eyes; "So if you dare kill the president... you'll be predestined to a certain fate... and I'll personally escort you down this cliff... to the other side of... HELL."
"Don't you understand anything?" Silver retorted, sweat beading upon his forehead. "Stuffing your face with sweets while pulling faces... Even if you use a menacing voice, you're not scary at all... HA." He felt his knees wobble. "You might as well be making death threats while sitting on a rainbow!"
"Hello, my name's Irwiiiiin!" the Juggler greeted, his arms outstretched. "What's yours, young trainer?"
"SHUT UP," Silver snapped. "Irwin! Wait... President?" He did a double-take.
"Irwin's the president," Morty explained, pointing a spoon at him.
"That I am!" Irwin said.
"Of what? Silph Co.?" Silver guessed, waiting a beat before adding explosively, "The whole damn UNOVA REGION?"
"Tch. You seriously need to calm down," Morty said, stuffing his face and gulping before speaking again. "It's no wonder she threw you off... If you did that to MY pokegear—no, my ice cream—I'd drop you off this cliff here." He pointed to it with his spoon.
"Stop alluding to that cliff and answer my god-damned question!" Silver yelled, stamping his feet. "And stay out of my head!"
"Right right... Irwin is The Founding President of The Lyra Fan Club," Morty said, inching over to pat the cheery Juggler on the head.
"Lyra... Lyra Fan Club?" Silver managed out, the revelation nearly bowling him over. "What. The... Huh." Morty's answer may have explained one thing, but it didn't explain why they were having an ice cream social in the middle of Mt. Mortar. "Wh-what are you even DOING here?"
"I had an ominous vision concerning Lyra..." Morty explained, placing his ice cream bucket down in a moment of grave seriousness. "Somehow, her destiny has changed... So I'm hurrying to the destination... where she will appear next."
"W...what's going on?" Silver asked. "Is something bad going to happen to her?"
"Something very bad, I'm afraid... Something normally impossible..." Morty said, standing up stiffly. "She..."
"She 'what'?" Silver demanded.
Morty crossed his arms and turned his back. "She meets a man," he said, "who is taller than me."
"..." Silver fell on his hands and knees, voiceless at the unveiling of this idiotic prophesy.
"I found them! See? These were the new photos I took," Irwin said, summoning Morty beside him.
"Oh. That's a nice one..." Morty said, hunching over the red and white binder.
In abject terror, Silver questioned everything: The two strange men before him. The reason why he was here now. His rivalry with Lyra. And what it meant to follow her around. (Like he did.) If these are the type of guys she attracts, he considered, then... what does that make me? With this question, he found himself banished into a swirling realm of putrid nothingness (and ice cream!), one composed entirely of the weirdness that he thought he lacked, but in reality, actually possessed all along.
"When you're done feeling sorry for yourself... we'll let you join the club," Morty said. "It's fairly simple... and it has plenty of perks. You're allowed in... just as long as you abide by the Lyra Fan Club Oath."
"What. Is. That," Silver asked in monotone, grasping the stony earth in despair.
"One, Lyra is everyone's," Morty counted off on his fingers; "Two, Lyra is everybody's. Three, No one takes Lyra for themselves." He scratched his head. "Hoh, there was another rule that was a reference to some... thing, but I forgot what it was."
"That's the same fricken rule, THREE times," Silver stated angrily. "And with three different pronouns?" He held his head in an attempt to remember his prestigious crime-funded tutoring and schooling. But they're all used awkwardly... 'Themselves'? Isn't that reflexive to the previous pronouns? It's like the statements went out of their way to be gender neutral... His brain began to hurt from all this nerding-out.
"Yes... because she has female fans too," Morty said, resting his ice cream bucket on his belly and reclining against a boulder.
"I thought I told you to STAY OUT of my head."
"Oh. I just remembered the fourth and fifth rule," Morty muttered. "No talking about the Fan Club in front of Lyra. She gets upset about it for some reason... The fifth rule is basically the same thing..."
"YES, because ANYONE would get upset!" Silver blasted and stood up. "And seriously. What's up with all your retarded rule repeating?! This is absolutely the dumbest scene I've EVER had the misfortune to cross upon... A club for a bunch of STALKERS."
"You'd fit in nicely ey," Morty added.
"Hmph! I'm out of here." Silver spun around to leave.
"Irwin, you have so many artistic pictures of her... Oh? What's this? There's blood," Morty stated loudly; "A picture of Lyra in bandages." He held it above his head to give it better lighting. "It seems she accidentally scraped her legs. Ah, she's taking off her thigh-highs."
Silver hurried over. "Let me see," he blurted.
"Creepy." Morty shook his head. "So you're into gore..."
"What are you babbling about?" (He was clearly into legs.) Silver ripped the picture from Morty's hand. He then flipped through the binder. "What the heck!" Silver yelled in disapproval. "These are all candid shots!"
"Err... Yes! This is a 'Fan Club'," Irwin said, blinking rapidly. "This is what one does."
"What a boring guy you are," Morty said, then yawning to prove his point. "So serious about... everything."
Turning a page, Silver stopped at a photo of Lyra sleeping. She was curled up under a tree with Quilava nestled beside her legs. Unable to pull his eyes away from her sleeping face, he slid the picture out from its plastic sheet.
"That'll be 400 pokedollars... 200 a print." Irwin held his hand out.
"You're trying to make money off her? Low-life scum!" Silver kicked him furiously. "I'll kill you!"
Silver handed Irwin his trainer card.
"Thank you for your purchase," Irwin stated, swiping it through his pokegear's card reader.
Silver reached into his pocket and pulled out an older photo of Lyra to compare it to his new ones. The old photo in question was one he had stolen from Lyra's family photo album. It was a picture of her as a child. The cute little girl was—impossibly—stuffing herself into a tiny cardboard box. He wasn't sure why he stole it to begin with. So I'm collecting these now? he asked himself; It's become a trading card game to me... is that it? Yes. That sounds slightly less disturbing. But actually... I LIKE looking at these?
Hah...
I'm pathetic...
No, I'm definitely not as bad as these two guys here... Silver looked up and found Morty laughing at him.
Die bastard! Silver thought, clenching a fist.
"Settle down... It's getting late, so why don't you stay the night?" Morty offered, "I bet you and your team are exhausted... Since you've been wandering around aimlessly for so long..."
"You make it sound like I was lost. Well—just so you know— I WASN'T lost!" Silver pocketed the photos and feigned composure. "And I'm not sleeping on this cliff, especially not with you creeping around. You fricken creep."
"Why? There's plenty of room," Morty said, unzipping a purple backpack. "And I brought extra food."
Silver's stomach growled, almost as if against his will.
"There, see?" Morty shook his head. "Here you go." He handed Silver a cold plastic cup and a spoon.
"THIS ISN'T FOOD, you IDIOT," Silver upbraided him. "This is ice cream! This isn't sufficient nourishment! This won't satisfy my HUNGER."
"Hn. Nothing satisfies you anyway, so it doesn't matter." Morty snubbed him, settling back down and pulling his large scarf up over his nose.
Silver hid his dudgeon, just for tonight, and hungrily devoured the cold dessert.
Meanwhile, in the corner of the platform, Irwin wrapped himself up in his own cape. He resembled a burrito. Or some kind of cocooned bug. Whatever!
"Lunatics..." Silver muttered, sitting down on the stone steps. In the following silent moments he closed his eyes and managed to nod off.
Only to have Irwin's annoying voice pull him awake: "Morty, tell me a stooory."
"Hn," Morty grumbled, apparently waking up as well. "...What kind?"
"Shut up and GO TO SLEEP," Silver said.
"Ah, a ghost story," Irwin said, humming cheerfully; "That would be fuuun."
"No it WOULDN'T," Silver exploded. "Go to sleep!"
"Shrimp, just close your ears if you don't want to hear," Morty said. "Story telling is my specialty, so I never turn down a request."
"You really are a demon." Silver laughed bitterly. "Because if you were actually human... you'd know for a fact that humans can't close their ears!"
Morty ignored him. "I'll tell you a good one... This is a true story," he began, adjusting his sports headband. "Ok. Do you remember Champion Red's disappearance two years ago?"
"Y-yes?" Irwin responded, already shivering in fear.
Morons. Silver scoffed and folded his arms to keep away the cave's creeping chill.
"Not long ago, there was a man walking home from work," Morty said. "He was in good spirits until, suddenly, a wave of sleepiness struck him... Overcome with the need to sleep, he stopped for a nap in the middle of the road... It was late at night when he woke up again.
"The man's pokegear radio was blaring a static-filled melody, one which crept up his spine and paralyzed him with horror. Intensely, he wished all sound would cease to exist, just so he didn't have to hear that inflicting nightmare. 'What's going on here' the man asked, noticing the wood floor beneath him, 'wha, where am I? Didn't I fall asleep outside?' Looking around, the man recognized where he was. He was lying in middle of Sprout Tower... Only... its support pillar wasn't moving at all. Time had stopped."
A true story, yeah right! Silver thought, watching as Irwin cowered closer to Morty.
"Desperately, the man tried to shut off his pokegear, but it kept going," Morty continued. "It wouldn't turn off. Even when he pulled out the battery... A cold chill crept up the man's neck and the radio's deathly static grew louder. He stomped it and threw it. But it became so loud, his own inner mind was screeching.
"The man ran and tried every door and window, one by one, only to realize that they were all boarded up... Naturally, he next checked on his pokemon, figuring they could help him... But they were gone... In their places were five Unown and a single Cyndaquil..." Morty looked down, slowly pulling his scarf away from his face before speaking again: "The Unown were spelling a word... This word was... 'LEAVE'... And the Cyndaquil was named... 'HURRY'... 'Leave. Hurry...' A voice on the radio whispered."
"KYAAAAA!" Irwin screamed like a girl, causing Silver to hold his ears.
"Wimp!" Silver said, annoyed by EVERYTHING. "That wasn't scary at all!"
"Oh, but the story is far from over..." Morty said, clasping his hands together. "Yes... No matter how he hurried, the man couldn't leave. He was locked in. By something. Somewhere... When he called his Cyndaquil out to try and torch a window off, it screamed and disappeared into the loud shadows... Panic-stricken, the man checked his pokemon again. The Unown had changed, and were now spelling out: 'HE DIED.' Horrified, the man wandered on, climbing a ladder leading to a room with a sign in the middle... The sign read: TURN BACK NOW?"
"This story better turn back now," Silver threatened and raised a fist again, "before I punch it's storyteller in the FACE."
"You know what?" Irwin said, sputtering with indignation. "You're just rude! ...Go away!"
"Gladly!" Silver spat, standing up to leave. But Morty continued his tale without abandon, somehow riveting the boy in place.
"The man screamed, his voice falling under his paranoia, and he ran through the tower. The shadows weighed down on him. There were unknown presences tainting his every step. He ran a seemingly endless distance until he saw two orderly lines of people, just standing there... They were people he knew from his hometown," Morty said, a slight smile creasing on his face. "Relieved to see them all there, the man quickly approached them... but... except for a slight swaying and creaking, they were unmoving. And upon closer look, their skin, grey. All were hanging from the rafters by their swollen, broken necks. The shadows closed in on him and the man grew colder at this horrific scene, their deaths walking alongside his consciousness as his escaping scream fell to a mere whisper in his throat. But even now, he was just barely halfway to hell. Ebbing from the darkness, a boy slowly approached him. Drifting.. Floating... this boy was none other than the Champion... Red... pale, dismembered, and crying dripping tears of... blood."
Irwin whimpered pitifully, curling up against the expressionless Morty.
"Oh boy," Silver said, laughing loudly. "Tears of blood. How original! What a lame ass story. Champion Red makes a crappy boogie man." But the damp darkness of the cave was creeping up on Silver. Its drafty and clingy atmosphere made the story so much more realistic... In spite of himself, he began hunching and glancing over his shoulders anxiously.
"The man, filled with terror, fixed his eyes on the butchered Champion Red," Morty said. "It was really him... the poor quiet boy who had been ruthlessly hunted by the public years prior. Being so young and charming, the Champion was loved to the point of obsession. So, somehow... at one point..." Morty changed and lightened his voice to that of a young boy's: "I was chopped up. And stuffed under the floorboards of this tower... They left me here. Lonely... so lonely... It's cold... Stay here." Morty's voice regained its normal dissonance. "Reaching his white, bloody hands towards the man, Red grabbed him and dragged him through the floorboards, the process draining the air from the man's lungs and sending him into spasms. The man cried and struggled in blind, confined agony... And everything went dark... He was locked in a murky, boarded-up grave beneath the tower. No air. No longer alive... The fear of death still with him. Forever."
"Eek!" Irwin cried.
Silver found himself shivering and scooting closer to Morty as well. For some crazy reason, the Gym Leader's bored expression proved comforting.
Damn it! Stupid story! Silver glanced around tensely. That wasn't scary! Wasn't! That's right... there's nothing to fear but the evil in my own sinister heart!
Morty threw a rock into the distance. And Silver flinched so much, he fell over and bashed his own head.
"Heh." Morty laughed at Silver's misfortune (much to the boy's inhuman growling). "After that, the man woke up... He was back outside and on the road where he had fallen asleep... and a big-nosed Hypno was staring down at him," Morty explained. "Apparently, it had used Hypnosis and Nightmare on him... The man got up and went home to his wife and kids... The End."
"Chilling!" Irwin said.
"That was ASININELY anti-climatic!" Silver proclaimed.
"Yes, but no one really knows for sure what happened to Champion Red," Morty went on. "Maybe that was actually a glimpse of the truth... or a peek of the future to be? As we all know, we can sometimes see what's beyond the mortal plane... And sometimes, the eyes of the dead can weigh on our shoulders. So don't look... behind you... Good night, everyone." The gym leader pulled his scarf back over his face and snored.
"Night night," Irwin said, curling up and going back to sleep with no further troubles.
I hate you! Silver quivered in thought, ...Creepy idiot gym leader!
~To Be Continued~
Morty: The Master of Pokemon Creepypasta