I'm very excited to post Chapter 2 of Spirit Animals. I'll have plenty of time to write the next few days, so there's a good chance another chapter will come out a few days from now.

I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed this story, as well as everybody who does so subsequent to reading this chapter. It all means the world to me. Enjoy!

EVAN RAMIREZ, 17

I have one too.

The moment Monica uttered those words, it was as though a bomb had gone off, right in the middle of the restaurant. Of course, she'd spoken quietly enough that not everyone else had been able to hear her, but it shocked me, at the very least.

"You do?" I asked. "Where?"

In response, Monica rolled back one of the sleeves on her T-shirt and revealed what looked like a tattoo. In reality, of course, it was a birthmark not unlike mine.

This one was dark red in color, so red it was almost black, and looked like the profile of a creature, perhaps a Pokemon, with a long ponytail. I clamped my hand over my mouth so that I didn't scream in shock.

"Monica, that's…what Pokemon is that again?"

"It's a Zoroark," she said flatly. "Master of illusions. I'm not sure what all of this means, but it can't be anything good."

"I don't understand. Do you think these tattoos give us special powers or whatever?"

"I don't know," Monica replied. "But some strange things have happened around me. For example, once when I was twelve, I…well, you don't need to know that yet."

At that moment, I felt a bit betrayed. "Monica, you do realize that we're the best of friends, right? There's no need to keep anything from me if it's so important."

"It's not important. It's just…".

Her words told me that I shouldn't be concerned about it. Her overall demeanor showed me something else.

I didn't respond; I couldn't think of anything to say. Instead I simply looked over at the sunset, which was stunning, just the way it usually was. From the standpoint of the natural world, nothing had changed.

But at the same time, everything had changed.

"Look", she said, "I don't think we should be talking about this in public. Something tells me that these birthmarks could be quite sensitive information; let's just enjoy our dinner instead."

Okay, but you brought up the Great Storm first and got us here. That's what I thought, but it's not what I said.

After a bit more small talk, our food arrived. I'd ordered a Reuben sandwich with Magikarp instead of pastrami, whereas Monica had simply gotten a salad. Much like the atmosphere of the restaurant, its food can only be described as divine.

I tried to enjoy it, but I couldn't stop wondering if our birthmarks were more important than my friend was letting on. She was a much more studious type than myself; could she know something that I didn't?

While we were eating, Monica would occasionally turn her eyes away from her plate and towards the ocean. I saw that a few clouds were gathering on the horizon.

"I don't like that," Monica said after a few minutes.

I frowned. "What don't you like about it, Monica?"

"Those clouds. They're a darker color than I'd like."

"It's almost night. Why wouldn't the clouds be dark at this hour?"

Much like with the birthmarks, I thought the clouds were no big deal. Even in a paradise such as this, there were cloudy days, and it wasn't even that cloudy yet. There was no reason to worry, but Monica clearly saw things differently.

"Whatever. I'm sorry I keep ruining the mood. By all means, enjoy the rest of your sandwich."

Once we'd paid the bill, Monica and I walked in opposite directions; although we were very close, we lived on opposite sides of town. It didn't take me long to get home; I wasn't eager to stick around town, for fear that I'd receive questions about my birthmark.

"I'm home!" I announced as soon as I entered our house. My parents were in the middle of eating their own dinner, but they looked up at me once I'd made my presence known.

"Oh, hello" my mother responded. "How was your dinner with Monica?"

"You got home earlier than I thought you would," my father said. "Did the date go all right?"

"It was okay; I just didn't want to stick around. Wasn't in the mood, that's all."

My father seemed to accept this answer, but my mother still wanted more answers from me. She asked me another question.

"Is there any reason you weren't in the mood to stay longer? Evenings in Palmwood are beautiful, as you know."

These were my parents; I could trust them. After all, they knew about my birthmark, so what was the harm?

I sighed before speaking. "Monica was acting really weird. She talked about the Great Storm, and how it was on another island…Moraga Island, wasn't it? Thousands of people died or something."

My father jolted, as though he'd just been hit with a mild Electric attack. Suddenly, he appeared a lot more worried.

"The other fishermen have been talking about the storm. They say it only comes every hundred years."

"Aren't those storms becoming more common, though?" my mother asked him.

"They are," my dad replied grimly. "But nothing like this has been seen in recent memory. Some say that the storm's so powerful, it seems malevolent. It's like it has a mind of its own!"

"How can a storm have a mind of its own? It's just like this birthmark" I said, pulling my shirt down to show my chest. "It's just there; weather conditions aren't sentient.

"I wasn't there," my father continued. "But eyewitness accounts from survivors of that storm talk about how it seemed to be communicating to them."

"What was it telling them, to reduce fossil fuel consumption?" I asked, trying for a joke.

"This is no laughing matter, Evan! It's a truly devastating event; Moraga City has been severely damaged, and, of course, four thousand are dead. It's not appropriate to make jokes about it."

"Fine" I replied, feeling a bit annoyed with myself for having jumped straight to a joke. I should have known better. Frowning, I continued. "Do they think the Great Storm is going to come here?"

"That's the thing," my mother replied. "We don't know. The storm's movement has been unpredictable in the past. Most weather moves along with the wind, but that doesn't appear to be the case here. So it might end up here, or it might not."

It was then that I asked a rather childish question. I just couldn't help myself.

"What happens if it gets here?"

My parents looked at each other for a few seconds, both evidently feeling uncomfortable. Eventually one of them would have to answer, and it seemed that neither of them wanted to say what they were thinking.

After a few moments, my father responded. "We'll do whatever we can. I guess we'll have to evacuate."

"But where would we go? We don't have any other place to stay!"

My mother shrugged. "I'm sure we could find a hotel or something. But we should stop worrying about hypotheticals, because there's no reason to think it'll hit us so soon. I mean, Moraga Island is hundreds of miles away from here."

I nodded. "I'll try not to worry about it; it's just that Monica brought it up during dinner, so it's still on my mind."

"Well, just because she's your friend doesn't mean she's right about everything," my mom said.

After our conversation was over, I headed back to my bedroom and did some reading. Although I wasn't nearly as much of a bookworm as Monica, I still enjoyed sitting in bed with a good volume to read, poring over the pages until my eyelids became heavy, and then going to sleep with a resolve to read more the following morning.

I did just that, and when I finally drifted off, I was convinced that the Great Storm wouldn't be a major issue. That all of our fears would end up amounting to nothing.

Knowing what I know now, it seems quite possible that Arceus, the Creator of the Universe, was sitting up in the Hall of Origin thinking about me. He would only have two words for me, and those words were the following:

LOL, NOOB!

I woke some hours later to the sound of howling wind.

At first, I didn't think much of it. Even when it wasn't storming out there, it wasn't at all uncommon to be able to hear the wind from indoors. Ocean breezes varied; some of them were quite mild and calming, whereas others were much more forceful, almost violent.

My first thought wasn't, Oh no, that's the Great Storm; we've gotta get out of here! Instead, it was, I guess we won't get on the water today. But that's fine.

Upon getting out of bed, I saw, from the clock mounted on the wall, that it was about four in the morning. It was still dark outside the window, and the panes were blurry, likely from rain.

So it is raining out there. Oh well, that's not a big deal, more time to read I guess.

A few moments later, there was a shattering noise, followed by a slight, sharp, stabbing pain in my left shoulder. My eyes watered from the pain, but it didn't take me long to process what had happened.

My window had exploded due to the high wind, and a shard of glass from it had gotten me. This was confirmed when I looked at said shoulder and saw a bit of blood pouring out.

I tore the piece of glass out of my arm, grimacing as I did so. I then screamed to wake up my parents.

Much like some of the questions I'd asked them last night, it was a rather juvenile thing to do; I'll admit it. However, in this case, I truly believed we were in danger. If the window could break just like that…

My father came running into the room. "Evan, you're not afraid of storms anymore, are you? You're a bit old for that."

I gestured to the hole in the wall where the glass window had been. "It's not just any storm, Dad! It could be the Great Storm you mentioned earlier; it blew out my window!"

"Are you hurt?" he asked me, looking quite scared all of a sudden. Based on the way he was acting, I felt certain that he'd known this was coming. He just hadn't expected it so soon.

I nodded, pointing to my left shoulder. "A piece of glass got me."

"Well, I know a bit of first aid from being a fisherman."

I didn't even ask what situations he'd gotten into that would require him to know first aid. There were probably any number of stories he could tell me that we didn't have time for.

"Come on, I'll clean the wound and stop the bleeding. And you'll be fine, although if it is the Great Storm, we'll want to evacuate."

"Aren't we safer here than we would be in the open?"

"Perhaps", my dad replied, "but perhaps not. This storm is different from other tropical storms; like I said last night, something seems intentional about it. If that's the case, we're not any safer inside than we are outside."

It was clear that my father was trying to be reassuring, but if it was an act, it wasn't a very convincing one. It was just as clear that he was scared shitless.

Anyway, I followed my dad into the kitchen, where he got out our first aid kit. We'd prepared it for situations like this, but rarely ever had to use it. These seemed to be particularly dire circumstances.

At that moment, my mother rushed into the kitchen. She looked mildly angry to have been woken up so early, but that anger quickly melted away when she saw my father applying a bandage to my wound.

"What happened?" she asked us.

"Glass from the shattered window got me," I replied, looking up at her. "The storm isn't coming, it's here."

"We have to escape. If we stay in this structure, or even too close to the coast, we're sitting Golducks!"

"Where are we gonna go, though? We're pretty far from the nearest city!"

"That doesn't matter. The most important thing is getting you out of here! We will hold them off for as long as possible."

I was a bit confused. First, my parents had talked about the Great Storm as something that might be sentient. Now, my mother had mentioned that there was a "them" to hold off.

Once my shoulder wound had been treated, my father said, "Okay, we'd better get going. Sometimes I wish we were Pokemon; their bodies are a lot more resilient."

"Why do our bodies have to be so resilient? It's just a storm."

I said those words, not so much to convince my parents, but more to convince myself not to worry. That my life wasn't about to be turned completely topsy-turvy. I didn't really believe them.

Outside the relative comfort of our home, all was chaos. Not only was the wind howling like a wounded, angry Pokemon, but torrential rain was slamming the roofs of the buildings. The famous palm trees that gave the village its name were swaying violently, and it was only a matter of time before one of them collapsed.

If one of them hits a power line, we're dead. Isn't water very dangerous when it's paired with electricity?

"Okay, Evan, here's what you have to do," my father told me. "You've got to reach dry land somewhere, find it wherever you can. This storm is absolutely relentless."

The nearest neighbors, a family of Alolan Ninetales and Vulpix, had also just exited their home, whose roof had caved in thanks to the wind. I knew this family well; apart from Monica, the eldest child in the family was one of my best friends.

"Vance, I'm glad you're okay!" I yelled, since I needed to do so to make my voice heard.

"Same with you!" Vance the Ninetales shouted back. "The same can't be said for our house, though!"

I realized that even if Vance's family survived the storm, they wouldn't have a home to go back to. And the same might be true for mine.

"We've just got to get out of here!" I exclaimed, watching as one of the palm trees swayed back and forth. It was normal for trees to move a little bit in the wind, but this was a lot more than I was comfortable with.

It was then that I made a big mistake. I stayed standing in a puddle that had formed on the ground in order to see if the palm would keel over. I should have just run, run so far away that I'd never find my way back. Quite frankly, I wouldn't have stayed had I known better.

Suddenly, I was pushed forward, landing painfully on the gravelly ground just outside the puddle. Grimacing, I stood up, ready to add another minor injury to the day's tally; it was still dark out and I'd already had two. That's a great start.

Literally two or three seconds later, there was the sound of something crashing, something cracking, and audible gasps.

I didn't want to see what had just happened, but in some ways it was like a major car accident: It was horrific, yes, but you just couldn't look away.

I turned around and saw one of the worst scenes of my life.

Vance the Ninetales lay beneath a fallen palm tree, the same one that had been teetering on the edge less than a minute before. There was no blood, but it was clear that he'd been flattened by the trunk; I had heard his bones break, after all.

"Oh no…" I muttered, still in shock at the events that had just transpired. My parents were still about ten feet from me, on the other side of the fallen palm tree. The looks on their faces were of horror.

Then: "Run, Evan, run!"

I didn't need to be told twice. I just couldn't look at the broken body of my friend any longer. I began running, picking up the pace every few seconds as I heard panic all around me.

How am I "hearing" panic?

The sensation of fear in the air was so overpowering that I almost lost consciousness as I was dashing through the village. To this day, I'm not sure how I kept running; all I could really do was fight to stay aware of my surroundings, knowing the consequences if I stopped running.

There was also malevolence sprinkled here and there throughout the village. It was hard to place exactly where it came from, but it was just as powerful even if there wasn't as much of it as the fear.

Sprinting as though my life depended on it (because it did), I arrived in the center of town, next to the fruit market.

Unlike most of the businesses in Palmwood Village, the fruit market was open twenty-four hours a day; there were nocturnal Pokemon to man the stands, such as a Noctowl I found who was trying to re-hang a few bunches of bananas that had been knocked off by the wind.

"There's no time to hang your bananas!" I yelled at Noctowl. "Just get out of here!"

And then, I heard a cackling laugh, one that sounded almost fake. It was the kind of laugh that either annoys you or terrifies you; it's not a well-intended one.

"You're not leaving this village alive, Spirit Animal" a voice announced. "You might as well surrender now, because there's no use fighting."

Did he just call me a Spirit Animal? Like some New Age bullshit that they sell you along with tarot cards? And who IS he, anyway?

"Who…are you, anyway?" I asked, trying to sound annoyed, but in reality I was quite afraid. Was someone playing a prank on me, or was this storm really slamming the village on purpose?

And then I thought of something.

My mother had mentioned having to hold "them" off. Could the voice I'd just heard belong to a member of that group?

"That does not matter. Soon, nothing will matter to you, because you're going to be washed away by the Great Storm. And thus, Evan Ramirez, Spirit Animal, will be just a footnote in history, just the way Arceus intended!"

I should have been running, but I stood stock-still there, hoping against hope that my ears were deceiving me. Of course, if something sounds too good to be true, it usually is.

In the middle of the dark early morning, a being appeared in front of me. It was an awful sight, but again, I just couldn't look away; something about it was that compelling.

It was an angel with black wings, dark eyes, and a sword in hand. The angel was about three feet tall, hovering about four feet above the ground, and there was evil intent evident in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" I cried. Remember, I cried those words; I did not whine them. There's a big difference.

The dark angel sneered. "We're here to take you to our leader. Alive if possible, but dead if necessary, because the most important thing is to get you out of the picture."

I reached for a sword, but then I remembered that I didn't have one. I didn't even have a Pokemon partner, meaning that if I tried to fight, I was a sitting duck.

It was then that the rational part of my brain took over, and I ran.

The wind was howling even more audibly now, and what was more, the streets were inundated with several inches of rainwater. Every step took more effort than it would have otherwise.

In addition, I saw several more palm trees fall, and one of them brought down a power line. I was able to jump out of a puddle before the water conducted the electricity and I was zapped to death.

I wasn't exactly numb to Vance's brutal end at the hands of the fallen tree trunk, but in the back of my mind, I knew that I couldn't focus on it too much. Not if I wanted to survive the morning.

My instinct was to find Monica so that we could run off together. There were a number of reasons for this, not least that I wanted to thank her for bringing the Great Storm to my attention. If she hadn't done that, I wouldn't have been prepared for it.

But then…what did I do differently as a result of that knowledge? Not much.

And then I remembered my parents. I hadn't seen them in several minutes, and I turned around briefly in hopes of spotting them.

No dice.

Should I go back and look for them? My parents always looked out for me, so I should return the favor, shouldn't I?

No. Don't be stupid. All you'd accomplish is risk your own life, and it's already at a pretty high risk as is. Just get out of there!

"I can't go back" I mouthed quietly. "I'm sorry, Mom and Dad."

Tears started forming in my eyes, but I still kept racing towards Monica's part of the village. I had to find her; if I'd lost my parents, I couldn't lose her as well.

All over the village, auras of fear and grief could be felt. In such a small town as this, everybody was bound to know someone who hadn't survived the Great Storm. In addition, the town itself was likely to suffer serious damage from the flooding.

Out of nowhere, there was another slight pain, this one in my left leg. I didn't have time to look and see what caused it; perhaps I'd been nicked by something, but, as with the whereabouts of my parents, I couldn't worry about that now.

As soon as I reached the side of town my best friend was from, not far from the schoolhouse I'd graduated from just yesterday, I began shouting her name.

"Monica!" I yelled. "Monica Mariner!"

"Shhhh, they'll find us if you're not careful!" a female voice half whispered, half shouted at me.

I turned to my left and saw Monica Mariner standing beneath the schoolyard's flagpole. The flag of Palmwood, the one we all knew and loved, had fallen to the ground as a result of the storm ripping it off its ropes. It was only a matter of time before it would be blown away.

"Monica, there you are!" I exclaimed, but the girl leaped forward and clamped a hand over my mouth. I could sense that she was both somewhat angry and extremely frightened.

"We're not going to shout until we escape the village," Monica insisted. "If they find us, and get us cornered, we're defenseless. We have to keep moving!"

I saw no reason to argue with her; indeed, I wholeheartedly agreed with my friend. We both fled the schoolyard just in time to see the flagpole itself keel over. At least it didn't hit a power line.

"Your parents, where are they?" Monica asked as we were sprinting. The fact that she had enough lung capacity to speak as we ran so fast was remarkable to me.

I shook my head. "I don't know, but they're not here. They said they'd hold off those angels, whoever they are."

"Angels? Oh, Arceus, this is bad!"

I didn't need Monica to tell me that the situation was less than ideal. We'd be lucky to get out of here with our lives.

"What… happened… to your parents?" I panted. "Are they okay?"

Monica looked at me, and although she was clearly making an effort to keep her cool, there were tears in her eyes.

"No," she replied. "Both of them were in a puddle when the power line nearest our house toppled over. And…well, you know what happens next."

I could barely breathe after hearing that. Monica's parents had suffered the same fate I almost had. The end result was too gruesome to even think about.

"One of my friends died too" I said, trying not to sob. "He got crushed by a palm tree."

"It's horrible," Monica agreed. "But we have to make their sacrifices worth it; we have to get out of Palmwood."

There were two things I could have said here. First of all, the deaths of Monica's parents and Vance the Ninetales were tragic, but they hadn't sacrificed themselves. They'd just been regular old casualties of the brutal tropical storm.

I could also have asked her where we would go. There would be other Alolan islands that would take in refugees, but if what that black-winged angel had said was true, the storm had been targeting me.

Does that have to do with my birthmark? Or Monica's?

"Oh wait, your leg" Monica said, stopping after we were almost clear of the village. "It's bleeding."

I stopped in order to stand next to her, then I looked down and saw that she was right. The slight pain I'd felt earlier was a result of a small wound in the bottom half of my leg. It wasn't near my knee, and it didn't impact my ability to run, but I knew just how bad this could get.

"Do we have anything to treat it with?" I asked frantically. "Because if we don't…".

"It could get infected. That's the reality of living in a tropical environment, you have to be very careful with your wounds."

I narrowed my eyes. "Please answer my question."

Monica frowned before facepalming. "I don't have a first aid kit; I didn't have time to bring one. I mean, I could have brought one, but I was too focused on escaping to even think of that. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be" I replied, gritting my teeth. "It's understandable, really. Let's keep going, or else they're going to do worse to us."

"Can't argue with that. We're almost out of Palmwood, and then we'll find some other place to stay until…".

"Until what?"

"Until it's safe" Monica replied matter-of-factly. "If we need to hide in the jungle, then so be it; we can get coconuts, and I'm sure there's somewhere we can drink out of."

I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed in my friend. If she'd known the storm might come, she could have planned for it a lot more effectively. Normally, she wasn't like this; she would meticulously prepare for any scenario, no matter how unlikely it was to come true.

But I couldn't stay mad at her for very long. Not if we were going to survive the storm.

"We can't worry about that right now" I mouthed quietly. "Let's run!"

And that ends the second chapter of Spirit Animals! I considered titling it "Blown Away" after the song by Carrie Underwood, but I decided to title it after a song by Gwen Stefani instead. They're both great songs, in my opinion, so it was nothing personal against Underwood.

Anyway, I look forward to hearing your opinions on this chapter, and I'll see you guys next time.