Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon….
Laugh or Scream
Nicholas stared at the reddish, watery broth slowly dripping off his spoon. Whichever way he looked, he could not see how anyone could call this stuff "tomato" soup. Sure, the bowl of warm liquid lying before him smelled a bit like ketchup, but the similarity ended there. As far as he was concerned, he was about to drink salty water dyed red. The gangers didn't seem to mind though, instead gulping down their portion with gusto.
It was early in the morning in the Undercity, around seven; or at least Nicholas was told it was so. The perpetual dusk that bathed the cityscape made it hard to differentiate the time. Nevertheless, he woke up without complaint and joined the Silver Wings in the dining hall for breakfast. Teenagers, some of them still in their pajamas, sat along the long wooden table, noisily chatting amidst the clattering of spoons, bowls, and plates. Past the tall jugs containing orange juice and milk, Nicholas could see Ibrahim and his Lieutenants sitting at the far end, talking in low voices. Behind them, many Pokémon were feasting on large bowls of feed set up on the floor, all jostling for a better spot. Nicholas' Sneasel was taking advantage of its lithe form to dart in and out of small gaps, sneaking generous portions for itself.
"Your Sneasel seems energetic," a friendly voice said next to Nicholas. "That's a good sign! It can be very difficult to keep your Pokémon healthy down here sometimes."
Nicholas looked up to see a girl around her age smiling down at him. She was a rather voluptuous redhead with her hair down to her back, which nicely complimented her tanned skin and big bluish-gold eyes framed by thick eyelashes. Her heart-shaped face was sprinkled lightly with freckles. The girl was wearing a blue jean skirt that reached her mid-thigh, a black bandana tied around her hips, black leggings, white tennis shoes, a yellow spaghetti strap tank-top that reached just above her bellybutton with a large flame design, and black fingerless gloves with the similar flame design. Sitting on her shoulder was a small Pikachu nibbling on a piece of tater tot.
"I'm Amber. Amber Zinohara," the girl said brightly. "You can call me Flame, or "the kitchen goddess," as I'm known to some people. You're Nick, right?"
"That's my name alright."
"I must say, you gave some of us quite an impression at the meeting last night, Nick," Amber smiled. "Not a lot of people can escape from the spire-nobles and commit a jailbreak while at it! And thanks for bringing back Sammy. Where is she anyways? She owes me twenty-five dollars and a packet of gum….."
Nicholas tried to keep his face straight as he spied Sammy surreptitiously ducking under the table out the corner of his eye.
"Well anyways, just for that, I'll give you something special! Here—"
Amber set down a plate in front of Nicholas, containing two sunny-side ups and a big strip of bacon, arranged to look like a smiling face.
"This is my Feel-Good Breakfast Special I make especially for my friends! Well, there's supposed to be some hash browns on top that's supposed to be the hair, but we couldn't get fresh potatoes this week, so….the little guy's all bald today~"
"I think it looks great," said Nicholas enthusiastically. Of course, the meal was a far cry from the fancy meals he used to have, but the eggs and bacon still looked tasty, not to mention looking far better than the tomato soup.
"Sorry if it's not the same as the food up there," Amber grinned. "It's been hard to get any fresh ingredients the past week. We usually supplement our government rations with whatever we can buy from upper levels, but the money's been rather low of late."
"Food is scarce down here then?" Nicholas asked as he chewed down a piece of egg, which proved to be as delicious as it looked. "I've expected as much but….what kind of provisions does the government send down to the undercity?"
"Well, they're not the best quality, I can tell you that much," Amber sighed. "Mostly leftover canned goods, some expired products, and whatever some charitable groups can afford at the time. After they're all divided up throughout the city, we end up with just enough to get by. Needless to say, people around here are always hungry."
"That doesn't sound fair at all! Can't anyone do something about it?"
"And what, end up losing what we already have? There was a protest about a couple years ago actually, for more rations and such. The next thing we know, the usual supply was cut by one-third and no one has ever complained ever since….The gangs fare a little better though, since we can use our earnings to buy more food. Some kids join gangs just to get three square meals a day."
Nicholas felt a sudden shame at being so picky with his food earlier. Eating well has been one of many things he has never given much thought to, something he has come to take for granted over the years. But what was he to be such a know-it-all food critic down in the Undercity, where every bite was a blessing in itself? Nicholas quickly picked up the spoon and began eating his portion of tomato soup.
"Can't believe I didn't even hear about this on the news…."
"You mean that ridiculous piece of crap?" Amber laughed. "Everyone knows that the nobles control all the media in Shadowgrave! All the TV stations and papers show only what they want the people to believe, that they are living in a paradise where the troubles of the Undercity are minimal or nonexistent. Scary to think most people up there believe that stuff…."
"Things aren't all that bad," she added quickly upon seeing Nicholas's face darken. "We do our best around here to distribute any spare food we have to the locals, as a PR campaign. Some people consider the gangs troublemakers, but most gangs I know try to keep their rep intact. That way, the locals are friendlier towards us and cooperate with us more often. For example, we hold an annual barbeque for the neighborhood, if we manage to get our hands on the right stuff. Yup, nothing like a grade-E beef patty between week-old buns all smothered in ketchup!"
"Will I be expected to eat that?"
"Just wash it down with a cup of Pepto and you'll be fine~"
Just then, a loud sound of spoon tapping on a cup caught their attention. Ibrahim had slowly stood up, directing all eyes to him.
"If everyone's finished, I'll get on with the daily business then," he called out loudly. "First off, the patrol shifts need to be doubled, which means squads Epsilon and Zeta will be on duty from ten to eleven and then from four to five in addition to the usual routine…."
There were a few groans, but otherwise no one challenged the decision.
"Two assignments for today….squads Alpha and Gamma, please report to the Lieutenants afterwards for a briefing. Because of the increased difficulty, Magda, Chase, and I will be accompanying squad Alpha. Aside from all that, the rest of you will be heading off to the lower levels for the usual business. The sale goes down on Saturday, so make sure we meet the scrap metal quota on time," Ibrahim continued on casually, as if he had done this many times before. "Any questions?"
The teenagers were already cleaning off their plates and utensils, and recalling their Pokémon to the balls.
"Good. Be off, and stay safe. And make sure to be back here at the usual time…..and the new guy?"
Nicholas looked up automatically.
"See me for a minute afterwards. I'll show you where the cleaning supplies are."
The crowd dispersed, dividing into groups while some ran off to change out of their pajamas. A few younger teenagers—their youth setting them apart from the seasoned gangers—ran into the dining room to collect all the empty plates.
"Well, I must be off! Looks like I'm in for a tough assignment today," Amber smiled. "It was nice meeting you, Nick. Good luck on your job! But I guess you've done this many times before though right? All the housework…."
"Huh? Oh, right. And good luck to you too, Amber," Nicholas said. "I might actually need that luck more than you might think…."
Watching Amber run up to her group, Nicholas suddenly heard a loud splat along with a clatter of a bowl. Turning, he saw Garret standing behind him, with an upturned bowl and tomato soup all spilled over the floor.
"Oops, clumsy me," Garret drawled unpleasantly. "Well, I guess you've got your work cut out for you, spire rat. And it would be best to make it clean….for your own sake."
Nicholas gaped in disbelief, protest rising to his throat as Garret sauntered away. Still, it was best to avoid any trouble for now, not while his stay among the Silver Wings proved tenuous at best. Squaring his shoulders, Nicholas marched himself towards Ibrahim. Perhaps his new "career" may distract him just enough….
That very hope had not been vindicated even five days later.
Nicholas yawned as he scrubbed the floor with a dirty mop as tall as himself. The stains on the corridor floor refused to fade away despite his best efforts. Though the rest of the corridor behind him looked quite clean, he knew there was still another floor upstairs left that needed to be swept, dusted and mopped. His job would be done then, if any of the gang members didn't point out some spots he might have missed. It didn't help that Garret and his posse did their best to make a hell of a mess before they left, which often involved sticking pieces of gum in the most inconvenient places.
It was already looking to be a long, hard day.
When Nicholas was still living in the spire, servants were always there to clean the mansion. He always thanked them, for sure, but now in their figurative shoes, Nicholas realized just how little he had appreciated the labor they did. Cleaning this entire place was a backbreaking chore, an eye-opening experience for him. Luckily, the gang did not fault much with his performance so far the past few days. Though the teenagers were meticulous about their personal hygiene, they had shown surprising apathy towards maintaining the building. As result, it fell to Nicholas to clean the hallways, organize the common rooms, take out the garbage, and in a couple occasions fix leaky pipes all around the headquarters. He also needed to chase out a number of stray wild Pokémon that had nested inside the headquarters—Rattatas, Spinaraks, and Zubats mostly—aided by his snarky Sneasel and a sturdy broomstick. Regardless, a few bite marks and scratches remained at the end of the day to serve as a mark of battle. On the upside, the past few days spent cleaning gave him time to get acquainted well with the layout of the building.
At first, Nicholas would usually finish the work by evening exhausted, which often went past dinnertime. Fortunately, some scraps of food were always available at the dining hall—courtesy of Amber or Sammy as he suspected. That had left him barely enough time to clean himself and relax before he drifted off to sleep, wake up the next morning and start the same routine again. The mess had become more manageable after first few days, however, and Nicholas was now able to make it to dinner on time with a bit of break time afterwards to boot. Since most of the gangers were just ignoring him, Nicholas instead spent time looking through Sammy's photo collections or asking questions about the Undercity to Amber, who turned out to be a talented storyteller. All the same, he would fall asleep many nights dreaming about the happier days in the spire, the memories of his father and Wilbur playing over and over in his head. It was both strange and difficult to be in charge of his own life without anyone being there to direct or advise him—as if a he was walking on a figurative tightrope without a safety net. Only his daily routine kept him together; at least physical labor took his mind off of things.
And then there was his Sneasel.
"You know, I've been thinking," Nicholas said aloud as he scrubbed a stubborn stain on the floor. "I haven't gotten around naming you yet. I mean, I just can't keep calling you Sneasel, right? It'll be like naming myself 'human'…."
Nicholas's Sneasel was sitting upright against the wall in the corner, contently grooming himself. Though he had tried to convince the black weasel Pokémon many times to give him a hand with the chores, all he got in return was a blank stare followed by an idle scratching on the ear. Except when hunting down wild Pokémon, Sneasel so far had simply stood by watching its trainer on the job. A typical Sneasel was a snarky Pokémon with an attitude and a fiery temper to boot, Nicholas remembered reading somewhere. Though he was grateful for its enthusiasm for combat, Nicholas sometimes wished he had been given a friendlier and more loyal Pokémon.
"Let's see….how do you like 'Scratchy'? I think that's a cute name," Nicholas ventured.
Sneasel shot a nasty glare, followed by an adamant shake of its head.
"No? How about Stella? Stella sounds sleek, just like you!"
Sneasel let out a low masculine growl that made the reason for its displeasure quite clear.
"Ah, I get it. You're a male! My mistake….hmm, something that sounds dark, dangerous, and stealthy…." Nicholas knit his eyebrows in concentration. "What about 'Shade'? Do you like that?"
Sneasel appeared to consider the name for a brief moment before slowly nodding in satisfaction.
"Or maybe not. Shade sounds a bit too dark," Nicholas scowled as he resumed scrubbing the floor. "Maybe I should just name you Wilbur…. Hey, you know what? I'm actually feeling quite good about 'Wilbur'!"
Deep in thought, Nicholas did not see his Sneasel march up to him, looking thoroughly pissed off.
THWACK!
It took two more hours before Nicholas decided nothing was going to be cleaner than it was now. Recalling "Shade," to his Pokeball, he slowly walked downstairs to the lobby, idly wiping his hands on a piece of rag. In the past few days, Nicholas had learned that the Silver Wings retained a cadre of young teenagers from around Palmyrian Heights, ranging from eleven to fifteen years of age. Dubbed "rank-and-file," these motley youngsters all aspired to be inducted into the Silver Wings someday. As such, as many as a dozen of them hung around the headquarters by day while the gangers were out, taking care of odd chores. In reality, Nicholas noticed that most of the rank-and-files did very little other than loafing around the common room. A group of them was gathered around TV in the lounge now, playing a video game and chatting loudly amongst themselves. There was no reason to join them as far as he was concerned. They didn't seem exactly look like a friendly lot, and besides, what would he talk to them about? Nicholas just walked over to the small fridge on the other side of the lobby and poured himself a glass of water.
The glass door swung open, and Nicholas turned around to see a small girl with dirty blonde hair cautiously scurry into the lobby. She looked no more than seven at most, and had her scrawny arms wrapped around a sleepy looking Zigzagoon.
"Oh, hello," Nicholas smiled, slightly bending down to meet the girl at the eye-level. "Can I help you with something?"
The little girl stared at him with wide green eyes, looking a little shy.
"Um, are you lost?" Nicholas ventured again, making sure to soften his voice a tad
"You weren't here before," the girl suddenly piped up.
"Yeah, I'm new here. Got here only a few days—"
"Will you play with me?"
The question, as simple as it was, caught Nicholas by surprise. "Eh?"
"Other kids won't play with me," the little girl muttered sadly. "Big brothers and sisters here do, but they're busy today. Will you play with me?"
Nicholas looked over at the rank-and–files gathered lazily around the television. None of them seemed to have noticed the little girl come in, and he doubted anyone would want to care.
"All right," Nicholas said brightly. "I'm done with my job anyways."
Taking off his rubber gloves, Nicholas followed the girl outside. Though tired, he was not about to deny a lonely little girl her request.
"Do you know how to play marbles?"
"Not really. But you can teach me."
Nicholas spent the next half an hour or so playing a game called "marbles," with the little girl, whose name he had learned was Lana. Admittedly, it was an odd sight, a teenage boy and a seven-year-old squatting at an old playground rolling small glass balls. Still, Nicholas found it quite pleasant, being an only child as well as never having had a chance to play with other children when he was little. Though shy at first, Lana turned out to be a delightful—if not somewhat moody—companion and a formidable marbles opponent. Perhaps, there was some peace in the Undercity after all, Nicholas thought as he lost his blue marble to Lana's masterful aim. It was horrible still, however, to think that such sweet children could grow up into the destitute lot like the one he saw at the Thief's Bounty…. As far as he knew, there weren't even any schools or amusement parks down in the Undercity.
"Where do you live?" Nicholas asked.
"Down the street," Lana replied, her one eye closed as she shifted herself around for a better angle. "We live in that apartment with the red bricks."
"By 'we,' do you mean you and your parents?"
"There's just me and daddy. But daddy's at work all day, so I have to wait until dinner," Lana's voice suddenly dropped to a listless, mournful tone. "Mommy's dead."
"Oh," Nicholas suddenly felt a pang of sympathy; he, too, knew too well how painful it could be to lose one's mother. In truth, Lana would have it harder than him; at least he had no memory of his own mother to elicit such a depressing response. "I'm sorry."
Lana did not respond, but instead flicked at her marble, masterfully hitting another and yet another with a rebound. Regretting having brought up an unpleasant conversation topic, Nicholas decided it was best to distract Lana from her sad memories. He knew all too well that the more one dwelled on unhappy thoughts, the stronger they would grow.
"It's getting rather late. I think there's some orange juice and cookies back at the headquarters. Let me just get you some snack before you head home. How's that sound?"
Lana nodded solemnly and began gathering up her marbles and putting them away in a little bag.
Nicholas grinned. No matter how destitute or depressed, kids were still kids.
Nicholas sensed something had gone wrong even before the pair arrived back at the headquarters. There was a lingering, almost fleeting, sense of fear and unease in the air that triggered warning signals all over his system. Tightening his grip on Lana's hand, Nicholas approached the building cautiously. His fears were validated upon seeing the glass door sporting a huge crack and almost hanging off its hinges. Shock had long dispelled whatever concerns he had about the repair he needed to do.
"Stay behind me, Lana," Nicholas whispered urgently. "Something's not right here."
Stepping past the door, Nicholas and Lana entered to find the lounge in shambles; furniture were overturned, cushions ripped, shards of glass lay scattered all over the floor….and a young rank-and-file, looking no more than eleven, hung from the ceiling with a video game controller cord tightly wrapped around his neck. Nicholas cried out in alarm, before remembering to shield Lana's eyes from the gruesome sight.
"It's all right," the girl whispered in a quiet, deadpan voice. "That's how mommy died, too. I came home, and she was there, just like that. Daddy drank four bottles that day and cried a lot."
Horrified, Nicholas looked around for any signs of life. The gangers would've gone out at this time of day, leaving only the rank-and-files to look after the headquarters. Fortunately, he couldn't see any more bodies lying about; whatever happened here they must've escaped, he thought.
Nicholas stepped into something wet and leapt back when he realized it was a sizeable pool of blood. A bloody trail led away from it, as though something heavy—perhaps a body—had been dragged away, going straight into the dining hall. Forcing back the shudder, Nicholas gingerly followed the trail with Lana in tow. The trail continued uninterrupted, forming smooth turns and curves around the dining hall and ended at the door leading into the kitchen.
Nicholas tried desperately to keep his thoughts together. Though a part of him desperately wanted to get away, he still felt obligated to assess the full extent of the carnage. After all, the Silver Wings had taken him in, regardless of the condition of his stay. As a guest, it was his responsibility, nay his duty, to safeguard their belongings. If some danger was afoot, he needed to investigate it no matter what. Though fear ate at him, he was determined to remain as a member of the Caverell family. His father would've done the same, as would Wilbur.
Taking a deep breath, Nicholas opened the door, only to behold the most gruesome spectacle that made his blood run cold.
There, in the middle of the kitchen floor, a tall, thin, young man was sitting with his back to the door, hunched over and noisily feasting on a corpse of a young rank-and-file. His ravenous feeding had sprayed blood and gore all over the kitchen, making it look more like a slaughterhouse. What appeared to be a crude, rusty scythe was propped against the kitchen counter. As Nicholas stood frozen to spot, overwhelmed by the scene, the young man suddenly stopped chewing, rose to his feet, and turned around without a single sound.
What Nicholas beheld could've easily come from the worst nightmare.
Clothing-wise, the young man was shabbily dressed, with black trainers, black tracksuit trousers, dark grey t-shirt, a long hooded black cloak, and a pair of black gloves. But his messy black hair, pale skin, unnaturally large red eyes, and a wide smile that stretched way too far back certainly spoke volumes. His hands, mouth, and teeth were covered with blood and bits of flesh….while an armband circled his right arm, emblazoned with a Reaper emblem.
"Hi!" the young man said in a cheerful, childlike voice. "Will you play with me?"
"Run, Lana!" Nicholas shouted in panic. "RUN!"
Without looking back, the pair ran as fast as they could back to the lobby. Nicholas's mind was in utter chaos, a cocktail of fear mixed with panic and adrenaline. The Reaper would certainly kill both of them as easily as he had dispatched the rank-and-file. Looking down at Lana, Nicholas saw her usually deadpan face now looking fearful and on the verge of crying. Something sparked in him that momentarily expelled his own fear and panic. He couldn't let the man get to her. If only he could buy some time….
Nicholas quickly helped Lana past the glass door, but locked securely it behind her, effectively sealing him inside. Lana stared back at him with questioning eyes, mouth open in surprise.
"Listen to me!" Nicholas shouted. "Get as far as you can away from here! Get help!"
Lana stood there unmoving, still staring behind the glass door.
"Just go!"
Lana scurried out of sight, arms clutched tightly around her Zigzagoon. Nicholas felt an odd bit of pride despite the knowledge of his predicament. He had just sealed himself inside with a psychopathic, cannibalistic murderer who would, without a blink of an eye, tear him to pieces. Still, despite all the adversities, a nobleman could not dishonor his family name. All notion of noblesse oblige may have all but disappeared of late, but he was not about to let his own go either. Though Nicholas knew he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight, the young man, whoever he was, would be kept busy tracking him down for a while.
Rustling footsteps, followed by something heavy dragging on the floor, came from the dining room. Quickly, Nicholas hid himself behind the television, watching the door intently. After a moment of dull silence, the young man swiftly darted into the room, one of his hands tightly clutching the scythe. He appears to have washed off the blood on his hands and around his mouth, but that did very little to improve his image. The terrifying smile remained fixed in place, only his eyes moving around and scanning the lounge. The young man sniffed, and let out a little snigger.
"Come out, little fly…." He rasped maliciously. "No use hiding, is there? I could smell you from miles…."
The young man moved lightly on his feet almost like a skilled ballerina, his lithe form moving from furniture from furniture inspecting potential hiding places. With deft strokes of his scythe, he tossed cushions and debris aside with practiced ease.
"Pretty little fly~ trapped in a spider's web~ all tangled and nowhere to go~ waits kindly for his host!" he sang in a high pitched voice that jarred the ear. From close-up, the young man's voice was curiously accented, malice and hunger dripping from every syllable that did little to hide his intent.
Even in his hiding place, Nicholas could not stop his body from shaking; despite his resolve, the fear and panic pressing against his limited psyche were simply too great to handle. Shutting his eyes tight, Nicholas did his best to calm his breath. Perhaps someone might come along. The Silver Wings may have decided to return a bit early—
Nicholas suddenly realized he could no longer hear anything moving. Cautiously, he peeked through the gap to find the lounge empty. Where was he? Perhaps he was gone, having decided that his prey was somewhere else in the building…. Nicholas craned his neck out a little further, trying to get a better view—
"Peek-a-boo~! I see you~"
Nicholas jerked up in surprise. Crouching on top of the TV and looking down at him was the young man, smiling with glee. Crying out in fear, Nicholas bolted from his hiding spot, but the young man was much faster. In a flash, he pounced on Nicholas and brought him down pinned to the floor.
"What's the rush, little fly? Wouldn't you rather stay here and play with me?" the young man giggled. Nicholas struggled frantically, though there was little he could do with his meager strength.
Nicholas's Pokeball burst open at his side, and his heart leapt as he saw Shade lunge towards the young man, snarling savagely. Even before he reached the assailant, however, a shadowy form blindsided the black weasel and sent him flying to the corner. A small, purple humanoid Pokémon with sharp claws and diamond-like eyes landed smoothly on the floor, positioning itself between its trainer and Shade.
"Nice of you to join us, Sableye….now go, and earn your meat!"
Shade recovered himself from the strike and lunged at the Sableye with vengeance, dishing out forceful blows with his claws. The purple Pokémon merely fell back gracefully and evaded the Sneasel's rash attacks with ease.
"Icy Wind, Shade!" Nicholas cried from his position.
"Faint attack," the young man replied smoothly.
With a huff, the black weasel blew out a freezing jet of ice from his mouth. Even before it reached it, however, the Sableye flickered out of existence, reappeared behind Shade, and landed a wicked hit with its sharp claws. Once more, the Sneasel was sent tumbling across the floor, crying out in pain.
"Shade!"
Nicholas could only watch helplessly, as his Pokémon struggled to rise to his feet, only to be slammed by a Shadow Ball that put him out of fight for good. The Sableye sauntered up to the unconscious Sneasel, grabbed and lifted him by his throat.
"That was really fun!" the young man giggled as he giddily clapped his hands. "See how much fun we're having! Don't you regret running away from me earlier, eh?"
Nicholas struggled with all his strength, but the young man doubled the pressure he was exerting. With little effort, he flipped Nicholas onto his back while still keeping him pinned with his right knee. That frightful visage loomed closer to Nicholas's face, giving off pungent smell of dried blood and sweat.
"Well then, let me look at you….," the young man drawled. "Now that we've managed to settle down, how about we introduce ourselves? What's your name, little boy?"
Despite the playful tone, Nicholas could sense menace and danger under those words that did not bode him well should he choose not to answer the question.
"N-Nick," he stammered fearfully, trying his best to avoid staring back into those malevolent, almost hypnotic red eyes.
"Why hello there, Nick!" the young man laughed. "How nice to meet you….people call me the Grim Reaper, but feel free to call me Grim! After all…why keep things so formal when you and I are about to have so much fun together?!" The Grim Reaper let out a high pitched cackle.
"Please….just let me go," Nicholas moaned. "Whatever you want, you can have it." Try as he might, his assailant's hold was too strong to break.
"But we haven't even started yet! Besides, you don't seem to be enjoying this as much as I! Now we can't have that, can we? Maybe playing another game will cheer you up….Oh, I know!"
The Grim Reaper crooned as he slowly picked up his scythe.
"Here are the rules….I'm going to cut you now, but whenever you scream, my Sableye there will cut your little buddy over there~"
Sableye soundlessly lifted up its claw, ready to strike at the limp Sneasel it held in its other hand. Nicholas's eyes widened with fear, but before he could say anything, the Grim Reaper savagely plunged the scythe into his right arm.
The pain unlike anything he had experienced before exploded into Nicholas. The blade cut in deep, drawing out gush of blood that dripped down his arm and stained his shirt. The force of the trauma very nearly brought a painful scream to his throat, but he somehow held. Only strained groans and gasps escaped his lips. Nicholas's entire body shook and writhed, only serving to make the pain worse.
The Grim Reaper slowly pulled the scythe down, widening the gash and bringing fresh wave of excruciating pain. Nicholas bit down on his lips hard even as tears leaked free from his eyes and veins popped from his face. Though his lips began to bleed, the sight of unconscious Shade drove him to keep himself together. To his relief, the Grim Reaper suddenly pulled out the blade. He brought the scythe to his mouth and gently licked at the dripping blood.
"Hmm, a little bit on the thin side….You could use a little more protein in your diet, don't you think?" The Grim Reaper stared down at Nicholas's pained expression. "You look sad~ What's the matter? Is it me? Am I laughing too much? Is that putting you off?"
"It's the pain," Nicholas gasped out. "It hurts!"
The Grim Reaper was silent for a brief moment. When he spoke again, however, his voice had changed from the usual high-pitched childlike giggle into a low, emotionless rasp. His wide smile however remained unchanged, as if permanently fixed onto his grisly face.
"See, this is the problem with the kids nowadays," he spoke slowly. "They just don't appreciate the value of pain."
Nicholas felt the young man's grip tighten, and gritted his teeth as wiry fingers exerted more pressure on his gaping wound.
"You know what I realize? I used to think people are driven by desire….but that's not the truth. What really gets them going….is pain," the Grim Reaper harshly growled the last word for emphasis.
"Pain lets us know what to avoid. Pain teaches us a lesson. Pain motivates us to invent, innovate, and come up with new ways to avoid that unpleasant encounter….But that's not all. Pain also makes us stronger, breeds endurance and patience in both men and Pokémon. If there were no pain, where would we be? But we often forget that very fact, and treat pain as a curse when it's actually the greatest blessing…."
"Unfortunately, I by chance of fortune can no longer feel physical pain. But I take it upon myself to, well, educate the public about the joys of it. So when I do you a little favor…..and give it to you by loads, what else to do but be grateful for the opportunity?!"
The Grim Reaper broke out in a loud, hysterical laughter, his body doubling over. His Sableye crooned most contentedly in response. Nicholas simply gaped at his assailant in horror.
"But I see that you're not appreciating my gift at all…." the voice abruptly dropped dangerously low, menace and anger returning in full force. "I don't like that. Not….one….bit."
"Oh, I get it!" he giggled, instantly switching back to his child-like voice. "My fault….apparently I haven't given you enough of the pain for you to appreciate it properly. After all, we constantly need to remind ourselves to be generous here in the Undercity, don't we?"
With that, the Grim Reaper reared back and struck Nicholas across the face with a fist, followed by another and yet another. Nicholas's vision exploded in sparks and pain; he could taste blood flowing into his mouth. Not only did the intensity of the assault failed to subside, the young man swung with increased vigor after every blow.
"Laugh….or scream! Let me hear you squeal, little boy! LAUGH OR SCREAM!"
In a fit of laughter, the young man rose up and slammed his foot down onto the grievous wound on Nicholas's arm. Though Nicholas managed to cope with the horrors of his torture so far, the ensuing pain caught him off guard. A strangled scream of pain finally escaped him, despite his best efforts to suppress it.
"Oops! Pop goes the Weasel~!" the young man howled in glee. "Looks like I'll have to cut your little buddy after all! Sableye, dear, would you kindly make it slow, so we can all enjoy those delightful little screams…."
"No, please—," Nick cried out weakly, fighting to stay conscious. "Just cut me instead!"
"Sorry, pal. Rules are rules! Besides, my Sableye's hungry. And you know what they say….a well-fed Pokémon is a happy Pokémon!"
Nicholas stared in dismay and horror as Sableye flexed its claws and closed on Shade's vulnerable backside. To be forced to watch his own Pokémon mutilated and possibly feasted on, any other form of punishment was preferable—
The Grim Reaper's manic laughter was suddenly cut off by an earsplitting crackle followed by an explosion. Nicholas felt the weight lifted off of him as the young man was blasted by an electrical surge and sent crashing into the far wall. Debris and cloud of dust rose and obscured his form.
"You all right?" A gruff voice inquired from the doorway.
Nicholas saw a tall teenager standing there, his steely gaze fixed straight ahead. He had a short messy blonde hair standing in all directions as tiny spikes, pale skin, and bright blue eyes. He wore blue jeans, a black t-shirt, a red and blue colored jacket, and black and blue sneakers, all of which seemed worn out. A big Luxray stood in front of him, softly growling and giving sparks of electricity from its body.
"Yeah," Nicholas gasped out. "Cut up a bit, but otherwise—"
"Bullshit, you're bleeding fast," the teenager said firmly. "Find something to press down on your wound for now. We're not out of this yet."
As on cue, a loud groan came from the far wall. Waving aside the cloud of dust, the Grim Reaper slowly staggered to his feet. Some parts of his clothing were singed and smoking.
"Uuuhhh….That wasn't very nice," he drawled as he shook out his limbs. "I still can't feel pain, but that's still not a good excuse to attack someone without heads up~"
"It's good as any if it were to finish you off," the teenager growled in response. The Grim Reaper's smile widened further as his eyes settled on the newcomer.
"Well, well, well! If it isn't Niels! Haven't seen you in a long while, buddy~"
The boy called Niels did not respond, but continued to eye his opponent coldly.
"You know, I've been looking for you the past few months now," the Grim Reaper chuckled as he dusted himself off and picked up his scythe. "Never imagined you'd be running wild with this crowd! What a nice surprise…."
"I suggest you leave now before I have to use necessary force," Niels said coldly. "I wouldn't think twice before killing a homicidal psychopath like you."
"And what, leave behind two potential preys?!" the Grim Reaper giggled. "Besides, you're one of the very few people who'd given me a proper match! It'll be a shame to pass that up now, wouldn't it?"
"I don't have time to spare for anyone like you," Niels spat.
"Oh, but I do disagree….after all, when the Grim Reaper goes after what he wants, he always gets it…..Sableye? Kindly drop the weasel and ready yourself, would you?"
The Sableye looked down wistfully at Shade in its hand, flexing its claws.
"There'll be plenty of meat to be had later…. Just let go of that tiny morsel."
The purple Pokémon reluctantly dropped the unconscious Sneasel—to Nicholas's relief—and joined its master's side. Fighting back pain, Nicholas took out his Pokeball and recalled Shade back. Despite its wounds, at least he would remain unharmed until further treatment.
Niels sighed
"I've given you a chance and you didn't take it. Looks like we'll need to do this the hard way, then. Luxray, let's make sure this maniac won't leave this place intact, shall we?"
Without further word, the two Pokémon lunged forward in an all-out battle.
"Discharge, Luxray!"
The crackling static on Luxray's body rapidly built up into a sizzling aura of lightning, which was viciously unleashed towards Sableye.
"Faint attack!"
Sableye vanished on the spot and the Discharge struck the empty floor, leaving a smoking hole on the carpeting. The purple Pokémon appeared behind its blue-and-black leonine foe, claws raised and ready to strike. Nicholas realized it was the same tactic used to knock out his Sneasel.
"Pivot, then Thunder Fang!" Niels countered calmly, looking unsurprised by the maneuver. His Luxray rolled and twisted its way out of the Sableye's blow by several inches. Before the Sableye could recollect itself, the Luxray pounced back with its fangs glowing white and crackling. Though its foe was swift, there was no chance of dodging the attack at this close range. The fangs clamped tightly on Sableye who screeched in pain as the electricity shot through its body. With a mighty jerk of its head, Luxray threw its foe across the room, knocking several pieces of small furniture aside in the process.
Despite the forceful landing, Sableye immediately raised itself back up and savagely launched itself back at Luxray. Dodging a direct Spark attack, it closed the distance to its enemy in a few seconds.
"Finish it in close quarters!" the Grim Reaper shouted impatiently.
The Sableye conjured a Shadow Ball in its claw and slammed it into the Luxray's chest, knocking it back with a painful cry. Nevertheless, Niels's cool expression did not fudge in a bit.
"Luxray, execute maneuver Number Three, Variation Six, just like we practiced. Mind the debris around you, and make sure not to get any in your way!"
Luxray got back up confidently and nodded. Growling, it appeared to shake itself, and Nicholas looked on in amazement as Luxray suddenly split itself into four copies. The four Luxrays began to race around Sableye, effectively encircling him.
"Ah, one of those fancy little trick of yours, Niels? I don't think I've seen this one before," the Grim Reaper sniggered.
"Too bad, cause we've learned to deal with Double Team a long time ago….didn't we, Sableye?"
Sableye outstretched both of its claws and conjured not one, but two Shadow Balls in total. Before anyone could respond, it flickered and zoomed in behind one of the copies. With a loud swoosh, Sableye slammed one of the Shadow Balls and broke the copy into smithereens; in a quick succession, it repeated the routine to destroy another, bringing the number of Luxrays down to two.
"Too bad Faint Attack never misses a target!" the Grim Reaper laughed gleefully. "Makes it easier for tracking down annoying flies!"
"Now, Luxray! Use your Wild Charge!" Niels shouted.
One of the Luxray copies suddenly broke off from its run and rushed at Sableye, its lithe body bathed with electricity.
"There it is~ Blast it with your Night Shade, Sableye!"
Sableye's diamond eyes glowed eerily before emitting an iridescent beam that struck true. To general astonishment, the charging Luxray simply faded out of existence in silence.
"Let me rephrase what I just said," Niels called out. "The real Luxray, use your Wild Charge!"
The remaining "copy" now turned and lunged headlong into Sableye. The Purple Pokémon turned, but suddenly began to stagger incoherently.
"What are you doing?! Fight back!" the Grim Reaper hissed in alarm.
Sableye perked up just too late; the leonine Pokémon rammed into it with a brilliant explosion of electricity. The purple Pokémon sailed across the room and landed at its trainer's feet, unconscious and out of the fight.
"Surprised? There's not much to it really," Niels said coolly. "While your Pokémon was dealing with the copy you thought was real, my Luxray used a Swagger using the distraction as a cover."
The Grim Reaper looked stunned for a moment, but slowly started to chuckle that built up into a loud manic laughter.
"See, this is exactly why you're my favorite prey!" the Grim Reaper crowed gleefully while wiping away a tear from his eye. "You never fail to bedazzle me every time we meet! Oh, to be in witness of such tactical brilliance~"
Though feeling faint from loss of blood, Nicholas looked on in awe. It was evident from watching the battle just how unskilled a trainer he had been. The two Pokémon moved very quickly with natural ease, not to mention withstanding hits that would've taken Shade out instantly. Moreover, both the Grim Reaper and Niels knew just how to utilize the strengths of their Pokémon to maximum advantage and exploit openings for a decisive strike. It was just like watching a masterful game of chess.
Choking back laughter, the Grim Reaper recalled unconscious Sableye back into a Pokeball, and threw out another.
"Let's see what else you've got in that brilliant mind of yours, shall we? After all, my friends are still eager for battle…."
The Pokeball opened up to release a Mismagius, another ghost-type Pokémon with hazy cloak-like body and a pointy hat. It floated in the air lazily, leering eerily across the room.
"You've done well, Luxray," Niels said as he recalled the Pokémon. "Scizor, you're up!"
A metallic insect-like Pokémon took shape in front of Niels, its red pincers glistening in the dim light. The Scizor took a brief second to assess its opponent coldly before it took to the air.
"Psybeam, Mismagius!" the Grim Reaper cackled. "Make your prey dance!"
The Mismagius shot a beam of eerie energy rings which Scizor surprisingly took head on. Shielding itself with its claws, the insect Pokémon charged through the beam, dissipating it harmlessly while rapidly closing the gap.
"Think twice before using a psychic attack on a steel-and-bug type," Niels shouted. "Metal Claw!"
"Fade out, Mismagius!" the Grim Reaper countered.
The ghost Pokémon fell back and disappeared from view, evading the swipe from the Scizor's claw.
"I don't think so. Use Pursuit!"
Scizor suddenly zoomed halfway across the room before Nicholas could even blink, and struck air where it appeared to be empty. With a shrill cry, Mismagius popped back into view, staggering but otherwise merely looking miffed.
"Finish it with X-Scissor!" Niels shouted.
"Now, Mismagius….spring the trap!" the Grim Reaper hissed. "Confuse Ray!"
Just as Scizor's claw came crashing down on Mismagius, a ghostly aura surrounded the bug and fixed it into place. A dazed look came over Scizor, while it began to stagger about incoherently.
"Like a little dose of your own medicine, Niels?" the Grim Reaper purred.
"You're seriously mistaken if you think a little confusion will do any good!"
"No, I guess not….But this will! Mismagius, show our friend what you've been working on for the past month!"
Mismagius chirped happily as it circled the confused Scizor. Then without warning, it reared up and seemingly disappeared into the insect Pokémon's body. The Scizor stiffened up, and after a moment of pause, turned silently towards its trainer, its eyes blank.
"What have you done, you freak?!" Niels barked out in alarm.
The Grim Reaper began to laugh again, his face contorted with triumphant glee.
"Oh, I think the word here is 'possession,' dear Niels…..They say playing with puppets is for kids, but I still find it quite entertaining! You see, I found out that my Mismagius has a knack for ah, persuading, certain individuals to our cause. A little trick exclusive to Ghosts, I think."
"Now, Scizor, or should I say, Mismagius….kindly dispatch our little friend here, would you?"
The Scizor-Mismagius staggered towards Niels, its claws raised high. The possession however seemed to have slowed down its movement a tad; the teenager rolled out of the way before the insect Pokémon swiped the empty air.
"Snap out of it, Scizor!' Niels growled as he ducked under another strike.
Scizor paused momentarily, its claws still raised high in the air. A slight shudder ran through its body as its eyes struggles to regain focus. Though still attempting to attack Niels, it was as if an invisible force was holding it back. Nevertheless, the blank look came over Scizor once more, and the Pokémon continued to advance towards its trainer.
"Hm, looks like your pal is resisting possession….my kudos," the Grim Reaper let out a wistful tsk. "Guess I'll need to put that into consideration in the future!"
Grimacing, Niels pulled out another Pokeball and tossed it onto the floor. A bipedal blue-and-black canine Pokémon, which Nicholas recognized as a Lucario, took shape and immediately slipped into a battle stance.
"Ah, decided to put your own Pokémon out of misery, have you?" the Grim Reaper leered. "But will your compassion allow for that kind of mistreatment?"
Lucario indeed seemed a bit reluctant to attack its own teammate, giving a questioning backward glance towards its trainer. Lacking such reservation, however, the possessed Scizor swiftly launched itself at its new enemy. Lucario pushed off the first stroke to the side, but the following thrust to the chest caught the Pokémon in full force, knocking it back and eliciting a painful grunt. Seizing the opportunity, Mismagius-Scizor darted forward to deliver another slash with its claw. Lucario grabbed it this time, however, and boosted by the momentum of the attack, tossed the bug Pokémon over its head. Despite crashing into the furniture behind, the possessed Scizor rose to its feet without as much as a single grunt. The possession had apparently dampened the Pokémon's ability to feel pain, Nicholas realized with a start. The tradeoff was reduced movement in exchange for increased resilience; as long as Mismagius hid itself inside its host, the ghost would be protected from further harm.
"Lucario, use Foresight!" Niels suddenly called out. Though the situation appeared to be tricky, the teen had managed to recollect himself, his expression rapt with intense concentration. The canine Pokémon squared its feet and glared intensely at its opponent, eyes gleaming with a strange bluish light.
"Now, use Aura Sphere!"
"Finally, gotten past your sympathies have you?" the Grim Reaper leered as he eyed the ethereal energy sphere concentrated in Lucario's hands. "Still, that won't do you any good! You'll only end up hurting your own friend—"
"You still don't get it, do you?" Niels said coldly. "You may have trained your Pokémon by simply allowing them free rein of their violent nature, but you can only get so far without any concrete knowledge about their abilities!"
"Do explain," the Grim Reaper whispered, his face suddenly filled with excitement.
"Foresight isn't merely used to track down elusive Pokémon; it also allows the user to zoom in and target the true nature of the Ghost Pokémon, bypassing any superficial obstacles they may put up in the way! As a Ghost-type user, you should've been aware of it!"
"The Aura Sphere, meanwhile, is not your average move…..it may inflict physical damage, but it also harms the enemy by shredding the spirit and sapping their willpower. But seeing that your Mismagius currently is the "spirit" of my Scizor….you can see my chain of logic in this, can't you?"
"Not if I have anything to say about it!" the Grim Reaper cried. "Mismagius, use Metal Claw!"
"It's too late!" snapped Niels as Lucario leapt towards the floundering metal bug. "Your possession doesn't allow for speedy movement, it seems. Now, Lucario, let's finish the intruder and get our friend back!"
With a mighty cry, the blue canine slammed the energy sphere straight into Scizor-Mismagius's chest.
The Scizor stumbled at the impact, but the piercing cry of pain that followed did not come from the steel-bug Pokémon. Mismagius tumbled out of its host with a loud whoosh, the possessive hold broken by the Aura Sphere. Lucario did not miss the window of opportunity; before the ghost could recover, the canine Pokémon pounced at its true foe and delivered another devastating Aura Sphere to knock it out of battle for good.
The Grim Reaper solemnly recalled Mismagius, that unnatural smiled still plastered onto his face. He quickly replaced Mismagius's Pokeball with another.
"Thanks for yet another amazing performance! I'm certainly learning a thing or two from you today….As for our next battle—"
"That's as far as you go," Niels said coldly. "I've only put up with your charade to buy more time. Your usual obsession for battle has allowed for a little backup to arrive, you see."
As on cue, several Silver Wing gangers rushed into the lounge from all directions, clutching Pokeballs or wielding baseball bats and such. Nobody seemed especially brave to attack the Grim Reaper alone, and the crowd instead formed a circle around the young man.
"Ah, what a shame….and I was having so much fun!" the Grim Reaper sighed dramatically as he absent-mindedly twirled his scythe around. "Well, looks like I'll need to come back another day."
"Give it up!" Niels growled "You may have gotten away with your bloodthirsty habits in the past, but we're going to put an end to this here. It's over!"
"For you and your friends maybe. But I, on the other hand, have flesh to taste and blood to drink! The world is my oyster….so to speak. Now if you'll excuse me—"
"Seize him!" Niels called out. Several gangers rushed forward, but the Grim Reaper quickly pulled several small pellets out of his pocket and dashed them against the ground. There was a loud bang followed by a thick smokescreen that obscured everything from view. By the time everything cleared, the Grim Reaper had already disappeared, an open window testifying to his speedy exit.
"That sneaky bastard," Niels growled. "You two, check the parameters, make sure he's gone for good. The rest of you, let's clean up this mess. And someone help the kid up to the sofa, would you?"
The gangers moved quickly to their tasks, picking up the discarded furniture and fetching brooms to clean up the debris. Two boys helped Nicholas up and took him over to the sofa. Despite his dizziness from the loss of blood, soft cushions under his back felt like heaven.
"Please tell me someone knows first aid around here! We don't need another kid dead, for Arceus's sakes!"
"Amber's on her way. She'll know what to do," one of the gangers replied.
"Tell her to be quick about it. But in the meantime, fetch some heavy cloth, a bandage or a towel. We need to stop the bleeding as soon as possible. And get something alcoholic as well."
Nicholas shut his eyes in an effort to calm himself down. He had begun to register only now just how close he had been to death. If not for timely intervention, the Grim Reaper would've killed him or even worse, fed on him. The prospect of becoming a cannibal snack did not sound like an appealing fate in store. Nicholas heard a sound of movement next to him, and looked up to see Niels sitting down on the coffee table.
"Here's what's going to happen," he said in a low voice. "We need to sterilize your wound with alcohol first before we can wrap it up, otherwise your arm can possibly gangrene. It will hurt though, so brace yourself. Are you ready for this?"
Nicholas nodded nervously, and clenched his hands tightly.
"All right then, here we go—"
Taking an open bottle of whiskey from a ganger, Niels poured out the clear, bitter-smelling liquid onto Nicholas's arm. A fresh wave of pain hit him, eliciting a strangled cry. Someone proceeded to clean his wound before tying an old towel around it, taking care not to apply excessive pressure.
"The Grim Reaper had done a number on you, but at least this will prevent any further blood loss. By the looks of it, the main artery fortunately doesn't seem to have ruptured. Otherwise you'd been dead by now….here, have a drink. It'll help with the pain, at least for a while."
Though Nicholas had never touched alcohol in his life, he accepted the shot glass nevertheless and downed the whiskey in one gulp. The fiery liquid burned his throat and almost made him retch, but Nicholas managed to keep it down.
"Thanks for saving my life," he rasped hoarsely.
"I didn't do it for you," Niels replied flatly. "I was coming in to see Ibrahim, and that maniac just happened to be in the way. If you want to thank someone, thank your little play buddy with the Zigzagoon. If she hadn't run into me sooner, you wouldn't have made it."
"Is she okay then?" Nicholas asked eagerly.
"She ran off, presumably to her home."
Gratitude and fondness filled Nicholas as he silently thanked Lana. Despite her shy disposition, she just knew how to save a life in the nick of time.
"You're name is Nick, isn't it? Niels asked. "The new guy from the spires?"
"Yes."
"Tell me this then, Nick….Why did you do it?"
Nicholas blinked.
"Pardon?"
"I heard what you did back here, when you faced the Grim Reaper. What I mean is, why did you decide to investigate the attack alone, and then opted to stay behind and fight him, all because of a little girl you just met?"
"I couldn't let him get at her," Nicholas muttered. "You saw what he was doing to the body, in the kitchen…."
"Oh, I know his habits intimately," Niels pressed on. "But why? Why did you take it upon yourself?"
"Because I had to," Nick replied solemnly. "It's what my parents would've done. It's what I would've been expected to do."
Niels stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
"You're either the dumbest of the lot….or the bravest. At any rate, either attitude is going to get you killed out here. In case you didn't know already, the man you tangled with….his only known alias is the Grim Reaper, a top-ranking Lieutenant of the Reapers and a notorious psychopath around these parts. He's not known for leaving his victims alive and kicking."
"But I couldn't just put her in danger, could I? Even if I didn't know her, I had to do something—"
"And your plan was to put yourself in the way like some chivalrous knight? The Grim Reaper would've killed you without a blink of an eye and tracked down the girl in less than a minute. Trust me, the bastard never gives up on a target he sets his eyes on until either the hunter or the prey is dead. The girl may not have appealed to him, but the Grim Reaper would hunt her down in time after he's done with either of us. It will take a long time, but he will get it done."
"Are you saying I should've just ditched Lana and run away?" Nicholas asked indignantly.
"All I'm saying is that you've actually made the situation worse than it could've been. You put the girl in danger the moment you brought her along into the scene of the attack," Niels spoke slowly and firmly. "If you really cared for her safety, why didn't you send her away first and then investigate the break-in alone"?"
Niels' words struck Nicholas like a lightning. The solution was so simple and obvious; the implications of his oversight suddenly seemed so horrifying.
"I-I…..well…..why didn't I—"
"You couldn't think of it, Nick, because you were so set on following the so-called honor code you have embedded in your system. Some people may say it is virtuous to stick to one's principles. But the question is, do those principles really prove their worth every time?"
"You say you're from the spires," Niels gazed sternly at Nicholas, just as a parent would look at a child or a teacher would to a student. "You may not be a noble, but you sure are acting like one, a sanctimonious one at that. See, many people believe that the world revolves around certain rules, such rules that they adopt as their own. As result, they blindly follow the so-called honor code in all situations, not knowing those dogmatic actions often condemn people near them as well as themselves. Sure, those principles may appear desirable in appearance, but knowing when to apply them and how to follow them is a skill unto itself. You thought it was your duty to protect your host's belongings and face whatever danger, yes? But in doing so, you had possibly condemned an innocent life in the process. That is not chivalry; that is selfishness."
Nicholas hung his head in shame, his mind in shambles. Everything Niels told him was true. Despite his best intentions, he had somehow managed to drag Lana into the mess along with him.
"The danger of living according to principles is that sometimes those same rules often blind us to reality. The Undercity has no room for the bravest or the dumbest. Do you want to survive, and better yet, learn to be responsible for the lives of those who depend on you?"
Nicholas nodded weakly, looking dazed and quite vulnerable.
"Yes."
"Then learn to be smart for a change! Always look at the situation as it is, and act according to what the circumstances demand!" Niels' voice rose a tad higher. "Of course, it always helps to be stronger as well. Always remember that only by developing strength and will can you protect what is precious to you….Otherwise, you'll be setting yourself up for future disappointments and broken hearts."
Those words rang true in Nicholas's consciousness. A rough idea of what must be done took shape as he chewed over them in silence.
"I'm not even obligated to teach you any of this," Niels grumbled. "I don't even belong in the Silver Wings."
Nicholas stared in surprise. "You're not? I guessed you would be a Lieutenant at least…."
"Nah, it's not in my nature to keep company. Besides, I'm not too inclined to help anyone. They would only slow me down. I'm simply happy to remain as 'an honored guest'."
Niels rose from his seat and turned away.
"Get some rest. You'll need your strength if you want to stay afloat during this whole mess we're all about to go through."
Nicholas stared in bewilderment
"But I thought—"
"What, you thought this sordid business was all over?"
"Isn't it?"
"To the contrary," Niels said coldly. "This is only the beginning."
"What a mess….This doesn't bode well for the Silver Wings, or other gangs in the neighborhood for that matter."
The streets outside was dark, lit only by the still functioning streetlamps. Only Ibrahim and Niels occupied the small office at this late hour, sitting across the desk from each other. A glass of whiskey sat in front of each of them, long forgotten and neglected. While Ibrahim's expression couldn't have been darker, Niels appeared unperturbed, his gaze steely.
"Two rank-and-files killed, headquarters ransacked, and the only ones with enough guts to face the Grim Reaper were you and the kid, both non-members. Freakin' fantastic," Ibrahim muttered, his fingers drumming the desk surface. "It's going to take a fortune to fix all the damage."
"Any idea what the Grim Reaper was here for?" Niels asked coolly.
"Fortunately, we know that much. I've talked with the former members of the Black Roses and the Mavericks. Apparently, this is a typical Reaper tactic: send in the Grim Reaper to inflict maximum damage, possibly taking out the chain of command, and thereby allowing the Reaper to storm in and clean up the rest. The strategy had worked frighteningly well in the past instances, judging from the testimonies I obtained," Ibrahim sighed. "Thank Arceus most of us were out on business. The losses, while tragic, had been minimal. Otherwise—"
"Will you be expecting a major Reaper offense?"
"I actually don't think so….This tactic had worked in the past because the Grim Reaper actually managed to sow confusion and terror among the ranks. But we're much better organized and more powerful than the Black Roses or the Mavericks ever were…. The Grim Reaper can't shake us up so easily, and the Reapers know this as well. I bet the Reapers will wait for a while, calculate our next moves."
"Then you think this is just a test, just to assess the strength of the Silver Wings?"
Ibrahim nodded.
"Still, this is a dead serious matter. What the Reapers will do next would depend on how we react, so we cannot show any signs of weakness. The base security will need to be tightened, first and foremost. The rank-and-files are clearly ill-prepared to handle this sort of crisis. More importantly, now we know that the Reapers are apparently not satisfied with their recent conquests. They'll drive towards Palmyrian Heights eventually. No mistake about it….."
"This just won't be your average gang turf warfare," Niels said softly, his eyes looking out the window. "The game is changing. Never in recent years has one gang been so aggressive and open about its ambitions. Rules will be broken, all right, but the usual alliances will be tested as well. And you as well as I know too well that friendships are the first ones to go during crises."
"Well, if things come to head, we might head over to the Thief's Bounty, and appeal to T.J. for intervention. Until things get more serious, we'll prepare ourselves to meet any future aggression from the Reapers. It's come to my attention that many of us require additional training. Lots and lots of it, I must add; it's time kids remind themselves that gang life isn't all about fun and games. Despite our best effort, violence is going to be the only solution left available to us in the end."
Silence briefly settled in the office, interrupted only by the faint sound of occasional cars and cries of wild Pokémon outside drifting inside.
"How's the kid, that Nick? I haven't had a chance to see him yet, with all this mess going around," Ibrahim asked as he picked up his glass and took a sip.
"The last time I saw him your guys were putting him to bed. The Grim Reaper messed him up quite badly. It's lucky he survived; most of past encounters with the bastard ended rather messily."
"I must say, I'm rather impressed, despite the outcome," Ibrahim chuckled. "He was apparently quite chivalrous enough to stay around when others have fled. That kid's got more guts than I gave him credit for."
"He was naïve, and therefore, quite clueless about what needed to be done at the situation," Niels said flatly. "If he thinks he can pull off that kind of stunt every time, he won't last long out here."
"True, but naivety combined with the right qualities can make for a strong catalyst for personal growth. I suppose we'll keep an eye on him, see how he handles himself in the coming days. Anyways….you fought with the Grim Reaper then?"
Niels nodded, a faint look of disgust passing over his features.
"It's been, what, nearly six months since the last match? How well did the monster perform this time?"
"He's grown smarter and more powerful since the last time I've seen him," Niels growled. "He's still beneath me skill-wise, but given his enormous progress so far, I don't want to imagine how good he may become in the near future."
"That Grim Reaper….he's the one who tracked you first after the incident, isn't he?" Ibrahim inquired. "After they….turned on you?"
"That was him, alright," Niels nodded. "I beat him easily the first time we met, but he just keeps seeking me out repeatedly. This time, he had a few deadly tricks up his sleeve that actually caught me unawares. At any rate, this won't be over until either of us is dead."
"I don't think the Grim Reaper will want to kill you off just yet," Ibrahim smiled. "I know how people like him think. If you're no longer here, who'll be around to keep him on his toes?
"Preferably another monster who can give him what he rightfully deserves. But it wouldn't be pleasant to talk about the possibility of having more of such freaks out on the loose….Why don't' we just finish up our normal business, and put this incident behind us?"
"Why, of course."
Ibrahim pulled out a neat stack of bills from the desk and handed it over to Niels.
"That's three hundred for what I took off your hands. The rest of the stuff you might want to take over to Yunis' place, 'cause we can't dispose that kind of material ourselves. Still, it was a pleasure doing business with you."
Niels wordlessly stowed the money deep inside his jacket.
"You remember my previous offer, don't you?" Ibrahim muttered. "It still stands, you know. The Silver Wings will always have a space left open for you."
Niels remained silent, his cold gaze still fixed on Ibrahim's inscrutable face.
"You're not the first person to say that," he said slowly. "But given my relationship with your group, I should admit it's not easy to turn it down…..Still, you know that's not how I usually work. Besides, I know better than to believe that all promises of friendship are permanent." Niels picked up the glass and gulped down the remaining whiskey in one go.
"I appreciate the sentiment though. No offense."
"None taken," Ibrahim replied smoothly.
Niels stood up, smoothing out his shabby clothes. "I should get going, now the business is done. Watch your back, and I hope you'll stay alive at least until our next meeting."
Ibrahim watched on coolly as the blond teenager gathered his belongings and headed towards the door.
"Don't you trust me then?"
Niels stopped for brief moment, his hand still resting on the doorframe.
"I don't," he replied at length without looking back. "Should I?"
"No," Ibrahim said nonchalantly, "You really shouldn't."
Without further word, Niels walked out and disappeared down the hallway beyond.
R&R!
Special Notification:
OC WANTED: Silver Wings' resident techie/hacker who's an expert in computers and all sorts of other machinery; must have at least a Porygon (or any of its evolutions) and Rotom in his/her Pokémon team.
Optional: former member(s) of the Black Roses and Mavericks who is a bit traumatized by the destruction of his/her former gang by the Reapers