Chapter 2— Corrupted by EVIL

Dark storm clouds were gathering over the city; metaphorically as well as literally. The cheery luminescence of the sun was hidden behind the ominous clouds, which shrouded the urban landscape in shadow, and quelled the happy summer play of children and their Pokémon; which gave rise to the unhappy and the grim.

There was a loud rapping on the door, incessant as it had been for the past quarter of an hour, rhythmical as the rain that threatened to shower upon the city. Within these doors sat a man, a wide-brimmed hat shadowing his face, his dark attire fitting for his profession and his overall demeanour. He chuckled to himself; a maniacal chuckle at the expense of others; and then at last looking up from the large mahogany desk he sat behind, thus addressed the Celebi lounging on the sofa:

"Kill him."

The words were spoken forcefully, plainly, ominously; and the Celebi, its once soft crystalline eyes now the colour of blood, rose to the task gracefully, walking over to the door which was still pounded upon. It opened it with a dull, indifferent stare; a sign that all proper sentiment it had been long deprived of; all natural pity and feeling of right. It only opened the door a crack so that the view was hidden to its master; and with one swift movement, there could be heard a thud on the pavement outside as the determined caller dropped to the ground: dead. The door closed and the Celebi once more resumed its place on the sofa.

"He was a foolish man," muttered Brock, more to himself than to his Pokémon companion; "to trifle with me—Team Darkfire; a fool."

The Celebi appropriately made no reply; and after a few minutes of silence, the door from the hall was thrown open, and the doorman, dressed as his master was in a uniform of black, stepped in. Brock turned around in his swivel chair, glowering intently at the doorman, who was pale and trembling in having to behold a man of such authority, and whom he held in such reverence. Brock's gaze never wavered, as if to say, 'get on with it.'

"A… a young lady is here to see you… sir."

His thin lips curved into a smile; nay, a smirk; as he received this intelligence, and with a wave of his hand so as if to gesture that he doorman be off, said:

"Bring her to me." And when the doorman closed the door behind him to fetch said young lady, Brock faced again the Celebi, whose eyes were focused on the floor below it, and dared not look at its master.

"Leave, Celebi."

And the delicate little Pokémon lifted itself from its seat, and unquestioningly disappeared behind another door. Brock then resumed his former posture, leaning back in his seat, and anxious to lay his eyes once more upon the young lady who had come to him. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, as if it would be a painful thing; and then the door flew open, startling him from his daze, and the doorman entered once again, and announced her entrance.

"Brock," a familiar voice said. It was devoid of the warmth that she had once held for him. Her voice was as cold as the iciest glacier now, and a lesser man would have shivered at the sheer hatred pounded into that one word. He looked the young lady up and down. She had certainly grown since he had last seen her. One year ago, to be exact.

One year ago.

Smoke. Fire. Screams.

Rubble. Chaos. Pain.

That was all that remained of Pewter City, his home. Brock's lip twisted upwards into a smirk. Beside him, his faithful Onix twisted about uncomfortably. Onix was the only Pokemon that had been loyal enough to go with Brock, even after all he'd done. Even after…the incident. Onix still hung onto the tiny, fragile hope that one day Brock may become the man he once was. Vulpix and Geodude had tried to talk him into running away with them, but the land snake would hear nothing of the sort.

Brock knew this. He was aware that Onix thought that he could be brought back. He chuckled sinisterly to himself and the stone snake beside him shivered visibly in sheer fear of the evil man that stood beside him.

Brock raised clutched fist and Onix braced himself for an attack – attacks that had began suddenly and only increased in aggression as time went on – but it didn't come. The brown-haired man simply opened his hand to reveal a tiny silver whistle.

"The Time Flute," he hissed, his eyes burning with the power the tiny instrument in his hand held. To get it had brought the destruction of his own town, his gym, but he didn't care. He had it now. That was all that mattered.

"No, Brock!" a voice cried and rushed up the hill towards him. A blonde girl was running towards him. He smirked. Domino and himself had been boyfriend and girlfriend for a year. After she had quit her Rocket ways, Brock had found her broken and beaten in Viridian Forest. He had taken care of him and they had fallen in love.

But then their love had become one-sided, as Brock had lost part of his very soul to an all-consuming evil. Over the past year, however, Brock had beaten and tortured Domino horribly but the girl still loved him. It gave him great pleasure to see all that affection go to waste. He laughed as she wobbled to her feet, tears streaming down her deathly pale face.

"No…" she said. Brock didn't listen as he took a black pokeball from his belt, blew on the whistle and a green glow began to form in the air in front of him. Lightening split the scene, as if the very whether had predicted the doomsday that was to come.

LS: Oooh, nice KKK.
Me: Thanks! I liked that bit a lot as well!
LS: Shame there was no Ash and Misty though…
Me: ;; Yeah. I suppose all good things take time
LS: Everybody be sure to review!
Both: AAML FOREVER AND EVER!