Chapter 4
The Path of Depression, Murder, and Evil
We were walking on a dirty road through the dead town. Gunshots cracked. Bloodcurdling screams echoed in the ominous sky. We had to turn around every minute to see if we were being followed.
"I hate this place so much…" said Sylveon.
"Tell me about it," I said.
We came up to a Furret on the side of the road holding a dead Sentret in her hands. We quickly went over to her to see what was wrong.
"What the heck happened here?" asked Sylveon.
The Furret was sobbing her eyes out. "My friend…" she sniffled, "he got stabbed 17 times… two of which in the heart… I saw it with my own eyes and tried to stop it…" She screamed in sorrow.
"I feel so bad…" Sylveon faltered.
"Let's keep going, I guess," said Oshawott.
As we kept going, everything kept getting darker. There were Pokémon that were selling tickets to the Distortion, one giving out guns, and one probably had schizophrenia. Once we got out of the town, I kept checking the map to see how far we were from the tower. It wouldn't be too long till we got there.
As I studied the map as a walked, a Flaaffy with a knife crashed into me. She held it to my arm that was bandaged.
"Where's my child's child?!" she demanded.
"What are you talking about?" I asked bewilderedly. Sylveon and Oshawott were appalled and tried to get her off of me, but she wouldn't budge.
She took the knife closer to my arm and got up really close into my face. "You do know! You were the one who took it!"
"You must be mistaken…"
"THAT'S IT!" she screamed. She raised the knife high and went straight for my face. Just before I was nearly stabbed, she was tackled off of me by a Froakie, presumably the Froakie of this province. Sylveon and Oshawott were pushed back. He was carrying what seemed to be an infant Pokémon in his arms and laughing insanely.
"Bring me back that baby!" The Flaaffy began chasing the Froakie with the infant. I got up.
"Can we leave NOW?" asked Sylveon.
"Not yet," I said.
Sylveon sighed.
We were all silent as we continued on the trail. The gunshot noises began to dissipate. We passed a few depressed Pokémon that made little to no eye contact with us even though we stared right at them.
While my head was buried into the map, Sylveon gasped with excitement. "Look! At the horizon!"
I poked my head over the map. I saw a tower with pitch-black clouds surrounding it. The tower itself was black, gray and red. I looked back at my map, and looked at the tower again. "That must be the tower. We're almost there!" I put the map away.
We began to run to the tower. The path broke off into a field with dead grass. We ran out hearts out, but we were stopped by a voice abruptly saying "STOP!" We stopped and I looked around wildly. I noticed a Teddiursa walking towards us. He seemed normal to me. He didn't have any weapons or anything.
When he reached us, he hesitated to speak, but eventually stammered, "P-Please don't run on the grass…"
"Why not?" asked Oshawott.
"As you can see," Teddiursa explained, "The grass is dying. Please don't put that much pressure on it. Please walk instead…" He slowly turned around and walked off.
"Well that was weird," said Sylveon.
"I feel bad for him," I said. "He probably has a social disorder."
"Who cares?" Oshawott blurted. "The tower is really close by! We have to get a move on!" He began marching to the tower.
"I don't think he knows that others' have feelings…" I whispered to Sylveon.
"You don't say?" Sylveon whispered back. She was hinting at the time when Oshawott lectured her about taking risks after we met that Larvitar.
Sylveon and I caught up to Oshawott. We kept walking till we made it to the tower. At the base of it, we stared up. I gulped. The tower was at least seven stories high. There was red roofing at every floor. Gray stone held up the structure and black lines were on the corners of the tower.
"Well, here we are," I said. "The Tower of the Demonic Pokémon." I slowly walked up to the door. I opened the door. It made a loud creak. We walked into the tower.