[Hey. If you look down on me, I'll kill you.]
Unexpectedly, the one she was facing was hardly a surprise, albeit a numbness still spread throughout her body. Of course he would do something like this. His stance was regal, like the king's. In his eyes, she was no more than an intriguing object to Hilbert, she supposed. A weak-willed, useless vessel for hatred, or something like that. Hilda knew that he'd do this just to make her hate him, because he'd always had this strange gleam in his eyes.
Important to him, she knew that he didn't care about anyone but her. This didn't mean that she'd not fall for his ploy, however.
"Reshiram, use Fusion Flare!"
He was too much of a strategist to let that happen. Oh, she knew from looking into those burning eyes of his, he only cared about her. That was why he was trying to get her to hate him. There must be something, some motive or some stupid plot or moronic thought that convinced him to do so. He probably needed her, that bastard, to hate him; not out of self-sacrifice, like some kind of cliche plot. No, he probably derived a perverse pleasure from that kind of thought.
He didn't need to do this, though.
Her hands were around his neck in a moment, the hatred in their eyes connecting as their breathing became labored with fury. Oh, she hated him, loathed him, for forcing her to lose everything. Hilda couldn't do anything to him. Furious, she tried to choke him harder, only to feel his body suddenly shaking; and what rage she felt when it was out of mirth! Hilbert was laughing at her, his mouth twitched up in disbelief that she would ever try to do something like that, and she knew how inferior he thought she was.
The one person she would never accept to look down on her now was openly mocking her. He reached towards her hands around his neck, and with a swift movement, detached them. A sharp crack was heard by her, before searing pain sprung from her right hand. Her right hand hung limply, hurting when she tried to move it, and she could see bones clearly protruding from under the skin.
That bastard had broken her dominant hand.
Oh god, it hurt. It stung and it burned, and tears were threatening to overflow in her eyes because she'd always had a low pain tolerance, but-
[But what?]
She grit her teeth, and blinked the tears away.
[I'll kill you. I'll make you bleed. I'll rip you apart, feel your flesh tear from under my hands, and gouge your eyes out so they won't ever look at me like that anymore!]
She couldn't clutch her Pokeball tightly anymore, and one fell off of her belt into the flames surrounding them. She felt a sudden surge of panic when she realized which one it was. It was her Jirachi, a gift from her dead father. And a Steel type like it could never survive the flames. She could hear footsteps coming up behind her, and then there was a single thought echoing inside her head.
[I can't die here. I don't want to die!]
Hilbert let go of her, cracking his hands together in a way that made her cringe; then, taking calm and collected steps towards Reshiram, flew away. She couldn't believe she hadn't looked away yet, but she found herself drawn to his stance; proud and determined, and she'd never hated him more before this.
Hilda didn't have time to process where he was going before she was quickly doused with water. The sudden onrush startled her, and quickly turning around, her left hand hovered over her Pokeballs, ready to send them out in case of danger. However, and it would take quite some time for her to realize how much hate had consumed her, even when she found a familiar face, her stance did not change.
"Hilda! Hurry! The fire's gonna get to us!"
Bianca and her Samurott was there.
And on her back was Cheren. Screeching and screaming, the boy clawed at his eyes, his voice mingling in with the shrieks of other over-familiar voices of people caught in fire. Hilda could only run away with Bianca then, not having time to try and do anything else. Yes, she was helpless. And she hated it. She couldn't do anything.
...He didn't need glasses after that, but Cheren said they'd take some attention away from his eyes. It was all Hilda could do to just stare at his shut eyelids, skin burned and melted. She would feel regret, later, that she was so caught up in her hatred for Hilbert rather than the wellbeing of Cheren, but at the moment, only an overwhelming resentment built up in her.
Standing in the rubble, Hilda and Bianca examined the aftermath. Almost nothing was saved, seeing as they were a town surrounded by trees- the flames had danced across the tops of the town, spreading rapidly. Most of the townspeople were dead, not having enough time to escape. Hilda supposed she was lucky- or perhaps not, because Hilbert had told her to go to Route 2 for a moment before she found it suspicious, and came back to find her town burning. She was never caught up in the fire.
Bianca quickly was caught up in tears at the sight of all the burnt houses, and had to leave.
The few remaining townspeople to not have their bodies turn to ashes were the ones who ran to Route 2 and the water there; but they died a painful death from lack of oxygen, because the fire stole the oxygen from the air and the water had filled their lungs. They were still floating there, their clothes torn and ripped in their haste to escape, but their faces relatively peaceful. Asphyxiation, she had once heard, was rather peaceful.
When she'd kill Hilbert, she'd kill him in the most painful way possible.
Something caught her eye.
A torn ensign, marked with a distinct shield, was lying in the rubble where her house would've been.
A sudden jolt ran through her body; she quickly dropped the item, because all of a sudden, it all made sense. The day before Hilbert had asked her to go find something for him, and he'd watch her house for her while she was gone.
It was Hilbert's; and he had a high-ranking sign of the monarchy. He had joined Team Plasma, and that's why he destroyed the town. That bastard had killed everyone for the sake of the monarchy.
So, kneeling down to pick it up once again, she crumpled it in her hands; looking down at the ground before mentally counting in her mind, Hilda could hear the footsteps of someone, but she paid them no heed.
She quickly flung herself to the ground and hit herself against it, again and again and again and again, before screaming out a wretched vow of revenge.
Oh, she'd kill him. She'd kill him she'd kill him killhimkillhimkillhimkillhim-!
"Hilbert I'll fucking kill you! I'll burn you at the stake and rip out your eyes, you fucking bastard!
Hilbert would die painfully by her hands, she vowed, and although there were tears prickling at the corner of her eyes, it was all she could do from laughing at the sheer impossibility of it all. She could hear those footsteps moving away now, and deciding to finally look up, was only met with a small notebook. Trembling, she reached out towards it; she had to stand up, of course, and her body swayed from side to side in exhaustion and resignation. The notebook was compact, small and black; fancy writing engraved on the outside, and she could barely keep herself sane enough to wonder what was inside. Inside, there was a note.
{Question Lord Ghetsis on the motives and accomplishments of the monarchy- is there really such thing as peace for both humans and Pokemon? -Yancy}
[Of course there isn't now!]
She didn't bother trying to read anymore, because god, the monarchy destroyed everything, so she tore the damned thing apart with her hands, ripping ferociously. Destroy the monarchy, she thought, and destroy as much as they have destroyed.
But in the end, she had no flame to set it on upon, so she only sat there crying. Because at least, no matter what, the monarchy would be written down in history; but these people, who she had almost died along with, would never be remembered. Their last chance of being remembered was burnt away.
And that's when she decided to get rid of history. She would destroy the region. She'd tear it all apart. She'd restart the nation. And that's when she realized what she could do.
If the two heroes of before could erase a region, then surely she and Hilbert could as well.
And that's when she put her heart into following what others told her to believe; a hero is only a hero if they are one in the eyes of others. And if overcoming the monarchy was the people's ideal, then it'd be easy to become one. Oh, she'd become the Hero of Ideals. She'd become it to kill him. A twisted hero, that she knew; but a hero, nonetheless.
A/N [Chapter Edit Date: 20/09/2014)
And yeah, I think a lot of small details will be changed here and there; the general plot's going to be the same, just probably a bit better connected...And thank you Mikanchi1208! I'm so glad that you like this story! /and also Pokemonredshipper I barely mention you but I appreciate that you take the time to comment on everything thank you so much/
Ahaha, it's a bit confusing, the whole thing, so I'll probably lose some things/add some things, so please do reread it when they're updated!
