Me: Hey guys! Raven here once more! Another chapter! Woohoo! Brightclaw, glad you've been excited! Anon person, I'm afraid this chapter probably won't cheer you up any more…

I feel it is fair to warn you this is the chapter where I earn the T rating instead of the K10 one. It is nothing graphic, though, so no need to fear that.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 15

"Seriously? A prophecy?" Rachael mocked from a tree branch above them. Michael had spent the last ten minutes trying to write it down on his notepad.

"Oh three humans, with food not meant.

A trifle to eat, your normality spent.

A single human, closer than home

A single human left all alone.

A mistake made, a man not in the know.

Seeds of destruction he may sow."

Danny's shoulders bounced as he spoke the prophecy. Rachael couldn't help but agree. Of all things for it to be, it had to be a prophecy. Ditto had just teleported them all back to the village and was now resting. Michael just set the pad of paper down in front of them, then lied on his stomach back on the dew-covered grass. His tail stuck up awkwardly, and he looked beyond exhausted.

Hannah was kicking her feet behind her in the lake next to them. Her arms were crossed, laid on the grass, supporting her head. She had been trying to avoid movement, as Eelektrik's betrayal and the attack had reopened most of her wounds from the last time.

They had been hiding in a small surface-level cavern just outside the mountain while they waited for word of the others. Once Xatu had teleported them back, Ditto teleported all of them back to the village, but it had left him drained.

Absol was currently with his Mightyena mate, so it was just them musing over this paper. Rachael was on a tree branch, looking down to the sloppy writing. She had to admit, not needing glasses was pleasing, and she was able to see better with her Staravia eyes than she ever had as a human. It still hadn't gotten old.

"Alright… so… let's start from the beginning. Why do you think it mentions only three humans when there are four of us?" Rachael began the train of thought, hoping the others would board it.

"Well… Hannah didn't start transforming until long after we did. Maybe that means she got it some other way?" Danny proposed, lying down on the grass.

"That would make sense, but when would she have gotten it?" Rachael traded.

"Well, when did we get it?" Danny tried to stand up, but his legs started jerking back and forth, causing him to fall back down with a gentle thud.

"The next part of the prophecy talks about some food. Maybe that's why we transformed. Does that mean we ate something that Hannah didn't that had the virus in it? What did we eat that Hannah didn't?" Rachael glided over to another branch absent-mindedly.

Hannah chipped in. "You all started acting oddly the day after that tournament. We got together the day after that when this grand escapade began."

"Let's see…" Danny mused. "Well, we ate different foods at the arena, so that probably isn't it since Hannah ate something there too… The only thing I can remember eating that Hannah didn't was- Oh, Arceus!" Everyone turned to face him. He threw himself to his feet. "Arceus Arceus Arceus!" His expression was that of complete mortification. "I… we… the only thing…" Danny did something nobody expected: his eyes teared up, his voice shaky. "Please… somebody feel free to tell me I'm wrong, but the only thing we ate that Hannah didn't… were… the weird oran berries from your dad's car, Michael…"

…

…

…

Danny's words sunk in. Rachael's talons clamped down on the branch. Hannah's eyes were wide and sorrowful. Michael was in shock. He jumped to his feet, slowly backing up.

"R-Riolu! Riolu! Riolu!" The words were meaningless. His eyes narrowed. "Riolu!" The words were shrill and hoarse. No words were needed to hear his rage.

"Michael… I know you hate it, but think for a minute." Hannah began wearily. "Your father has access to many different assortments of chemicals. He works in his private room, away from prying eyes. You guys even pointed out how weird the oran berries found in his car were. It all adds up." Michael's eyes narrowed further. He was deadly still.

Then he turned and ran into the foliage.

"Michael! Ack! I'll follow him!" Rachael loudly chirped, launching herself off the tree branch. She could barely make out Michael, running around the trees deftly, even with her enhanced vision. She tilted her wings from side to side in an attempt to avoid all the trees, but it was slowing her down, and she couldn't run very quickly, so she forced herself above the trees with a powerful beat of her wings.

The green and blue leaves were wet with a recent rainstorm in the area, and all the leaves smelled like dew. Rachael flicked her head around, searching for her friend. She caught sight of him, leaving the village at a dead run. There was only one place he would go, but if they were right about their theory…

Rachael swooped down to her friends, who were still somewhat dumbfounded as to what had just happened. "He's going to his house! If we're not back by tomorrow afternoon, you have reason to worry! You guys stay here!"

"Why the heck shouldn't we follow you?" Danny shouted in a mix of anger and fear as his voice cracked slightly.

"You can't even walk properly, and Hannah can barely move, much less run!" Rachael thrust her wings downward as the ground dropped from her. Ditto was right about her getting better at takeoffs with evolution. Speaking of which, she needed to come up with a nickname for him… maybe Verto…

Rachael shook her head and focused on flying after Michael. She noticed, about a mile ahead of her was a small, blue speck running much faster than he should be able to. Michael must be using quick attack. Rachael didn't even know when he learned how to do that.

The air was still slightly fragrant with dew leaves, though the air didn't smell quite as fresh as it did on the mountain. The trees were still towering, and Rachael could not see Michael anywhere. He was probably going much faster than she could fly… if only she could use quick attack, yet she still couldn't use attacks!

Then Rachael felt a burst of energy. Suddenly, her wings were beating faster, and the wind was blowing against her louder and harder. The trees became a blur of green and blue below her. How in the world?

The quick claw! Rachael felt the small pendant rubbing against her chest. She let out a chirp of joy. Amicus. She hoped Amicus was alright. The quick claw's effects lasted significantly longer than she expected. Maybe it was a response to her panic. She kept flying. She flew for several hours. The sun was beginning its descent. She still couldn't see Michael. She was moving much faster than they had been walking to the village. The city's skyscrapers were visible in the distance, which meant the suburbs they all lived in was not far.

One would think flying for several hours straight would be boring and tedious. No. It isn't. It's the most exhilarating feeling in the world. Even when trying to hurry, there is that permanent feeling of exhilaration underneath. It's what you focus on after hours of exhaustion. It's like running a marathon, except at a much more frantic pace.

If Rachael had to describe flying over her native town, it would be odd. Seeing it all from, for lack of a better term, a bird's eye view, was a peculiar experience. She could see the park from which they entered the forest. The clear sky after the rain that had taken place made for great picnic weather. Families and their pokémon were sitting on blankets far below, eating their various foods.

Rachael felt herself slowing down. The quick claw must be wearing off, and with it, her energy. She saw Michael's house roughly half a mile away. She had to be grateful for good vision.

It took her five minutes to reach his home. She landed cautiously in the back yard, which was connected to a further off portion of the forest. She had cut maybe twenty minutes going over the park instead of the woods, though Michael was more conspicuous, so he probably had to go through the forest. Hopefully, she caught up to him.

The back door was slightly ajar, with a key sticking out of the rounded doorknob. She walked in slowly, breathing heavily. Awkwardly, she flew up to the door and grabbed the doorknob in her talons, shutting it. She heard a quiet crying from upstairs. She flew up the worn and wooden stairway, and down the short hall that was adorned with pictures of Michael and Mr. Clark, his father.

One photo, in particular, caught her attention. It was Michael when he was around ten. They were at a pokémon themed amusement park on the other side of the country. Rachael dimly remembered Michael talking about that trip years ago. Both of them were on a rollercoaster made to look like a Gyarados, as it took a deep nosedive where the camera took a picture. Both of them looked to be having a great time. Did a man like that cause all this?

She heard Michael trying to suppress sobs. That probably was not a good sign. Rachael walked down the hallway to a door left ajar. The room inside it was… cluttered. There was a queen-sized bed with wrinkled white covers on it. The walls were painted a dull brown, and the desks and dresser in front of the windows were a matching darker brown. Michael was kneeling on top of the table, with a leather book laying in front of him, the pages wide open and soaked with tears. Michael's jacket still hung, the sleeves tied around his neck like a cape, as part of it hung off the dresser, smelling musty with dirt.

Rachael frowned, and quietly lifted herself to the dresser. She landed behind Michael softly, who didn't turn to look at her. She peeked over his shoulder at the journal, and felt her blood run cold. She didn't read the whole page, but she saw the words she needed to.

"Revenge. Kill. Joy. Disease." The words popped out at her as though they were a lit neon sign. Michael let out a shriek of rage and sorrow, slamming the book shut, throwing it off the dresser. It landed on the floor, crumpling up the pages hitting the floor with it.

So they were correct in their assumptions? It made too much sense, but why would Mr. Clark do this? He held some sort of grudge against pokémon, but what would committing genocide do? Sure, ordinary animals existed in this world, ones without the elemental abilities of pokémon, but it would be beyond difficult to find a sufficient amount to stabilize all the ecosystems, assuming even they survive. Unless the virus got to all the humans and everyone turned into pokémon themselves…

Rachael stopped this horrible train of thought. He must harbor some terrible grudge. Perhaps one harmed someone he cared about. Mr. Clark had always seemed the kind to fixate on something and not let it go.

Footsteps.

Rachael let out a chirp of fear. "Michael!" She warned in a coarse whisper. "We need to go!" He hugged his legs, rubbing his paws over the blue and brown fur. He shook his head, not looking to her.

Rachael grew frantic. "Michael! Come on! We have to leave!" She put her wing on his shoulder, only to have it thrust away. His head remained down.

The door slowly opened. Mr. Clark crept in, slowly, with an enraged expression on his face. He was wearing a lab coat that was near immaculate, though his hair was a complete mess, he had bags under his eyes, and he had a slouch. He looked exhausted. Michael didn't look up.

Mr. Clark stared the two down, before slowly reaching behind his back for something. Before Rachael had time to process what was happening, a jolting pain surged throughout her, pain unlike any Rachael had felt. She let out a shrill screech of pain. After a few seconds, she went numb. She couldn't move. A stun gun. She must've been shot with a stun gun. She should have been panicking, but she was tired now…

"Riolu!" She heard Michael shout in fear. Then he screamed. It was a guttural, animalistic scream. Probably the worst sound Rachael had ever heard in her life.

Then she blacked out.

…

…

…

Rachael let out a chirping sound that substituted for a groan. Arceus was she sore. She experimentally moved all her limbs. Her tail feathers twitched appropriately. She could move her talons. She forced herself up, and slowly opened her eyes. It was dark. She felt the cold, hard surface beneath her. Stone. Where was she? She flexed her wings, or at least tried to. They were bound by something. It felt like a ring of some sorts, securely fastened around them, preventing her from moving them as they were pinned firmly and uncomfortably to her sides.

She wearily looked around. The only source of light was the world's smallest window, only about five inches in each direction. The window was just at her eye level. She looked out it, only to be dismayed when all she saw was an almost equally dark room, the only light source coming from an abandoned lamp left on at a desk nearby. There were many machines in the chamber, but she couldn't see well enough to make any of them out. Her eyes widened. She was in a lab. Her breathing quickened, as she rubbed her side against a wall of the same material as the floor. She backed up a few paces, only to encounter another one. She was in a cage. She tried moving to the other side of the cramped space, only to run into another entity. He let out a surprised gasp, and a startled "Riolu!" The figure was barely visible, but he looked like…

"Michael? I don't know if you can see me, but it's me. Rachael." She kept her voice steady and calm, stomping down her growing dread. She didn't need to make Michael and his emotion-sensing abilities panic further.

"Can you light your force palm?" Light, welcome, sweet, light flooded their cramped confinements. The walls around them allowed not much room, barely tall enough for Rachael to stand. Michael was sitting in an awkward position, paws bound around his back.

"Shackles? Let me see them." Michael complied, a dull look in his eyes as he lifted his glowing fists up for her to see. The cuffs were made of an ebony metal, and under lock and key, so Rachael didn't see a way to break them off anytime soon. Rachael turned her head to peer at what was binding her wings. It was the same type as Michael's, except it wrapped around her wings entirely.

"Jeez… where did he even get this stuff…" Rachael muttered under her breath. Michael turned his head away.

"Michael…" Rachael started, unsure of how to calm him or make him feel better. "We'll get out of here. I'm not sure what time it is, but Hannah and Danny will know to look for us by the midday after we… uh… left." She finished awkwardly. Michael kept his head turned.

A door opened. The hinges creaked with effort as it reached its full length, then began to swing shut. Footsteps echoed through the room. "Michael," Rachael whispered quickly. "Put away your force palm." Darkness encased them once again. A dim light filtered in through the sorry excuse for a window as the person turned the lights on in the room.

Bang!

Both Michael and Rachael jumped. The person slammed their fist into the side with the window. They both backed away from that side of the cage. There was a snapping sound. The door began to open. For the first time, Rachael could see their surroundings. The cage was about five feet off the ground, and the only means of leaving the room was a single iron door they'd never be able to open, being bound, short, and lacking in opposable thumbs. The room was filled with machinery. Opposite to them was a metal table filled with beakers and the Rube-Goldberg-like means of carrying around chemicals in twisting manners.

The next thing Rachael knew, she was being grabbed by the leg and pulled. One thing to note about her legs: they were not completely straight like a human's. There was a natural bend in the joints. Needless to say, having a leg gripped in a way that tries to straighten them hurts. Rachael felt herself hanging upside down as she was pulled across the room, before being dropped onto a metal surface. She landed with a soft thud.

Rachael didn't have time to stand back up before something was wrapped around her neck. She froze. A strong chord completely circled her neck, not choking her but relatively close. In her peripheral vision, she could see the chords tied to the two edges of the table. It would choke her if she struggled. Horror wound its way through her system. Mr. Clark's face was cold and dull.

He was holding a large needle. He muttered under his breath. "Tests show it's been exposed to the serum, yet shows no symptoms of any kind despite a prolonged exposure…" He typed this into a nearby computer expertly with one hand. "Attempting to inject serum directly into the bloodstream from various locations." Rachael could barely comprehend what was happening. Her breathing quickened. She closed her eyes as the large needle was jabbed into her neck. She let out a chirping whimper. He took another needle and jabbed it into her chest. Another into her wing. More needles in many different places. Then, he grabbed another syringe and drew her blood. It was a large needle and left her dizzy after he filled it with her crimson blood.

Then they waited. Mr. Clark had spent the next several hours typing away on a computer and analyzing her blood through a microscope. Rachael was cramped from lying in one position for so long. There was nothing she could do to escape her bindings unharmed. Her leg was sore from the rough handling earlier. She was in a half-daze, half-sleep when Mr. Clark let out a growl of anger and frustration, jumping up angrily from his seat.

"Why won't it affect you…?" He whispered slowly and angrily as he glared at Rachael, inches from her face. She shied away. He was tired, and his breath smelled like alcohol. He'd been drinking. When she kept silent, as though he had expected an answer, he turned away from her and muttered as he typed once more on the computer.

"Now attempting to inject serum while the subject is in a weakened state." He smiled. It was not a friendly one. He reached over his shoulder and flipped a switch Rachael couldn't see.

She hated the switch.

Electricity coursed through her body. She let out a shrill screech of agony. Every part of her felt like it was on fire. She struggled against her confinements. The pain in her neck grew even worse. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't hear. She could only feel. It seemed like hours until the electricity cut off. She took gasping breaths. She was shaking like a leaf. More pain in her sore leg as Mr. Clark brought his fist down on it.

"Pipe down!" Her leg felt like it was being torn off. They weren't very strong to begin with. Hot tears stung her eyes. She glared at Mr. Clark. There was a certain glint in his eyes. He enjoyed her pain. He was holding another syringe. He thrust it right into her chest. It was like being stabbed with a knife. She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut, causing the tears to stream over her face. He drew her blood again, then they waited. Another hour passed. Her leg was hurting the entire time. It was probably broken. The table below her was coated with a thin layer of her blood, and her feathers were singed from the electricity. Her captor grunted angrily.

He gripped her by the binding on her wings, grabbed the chord, and forced it off her neck by pulling her head through it, nearly choking her in the process. Her neck burned. Once she was freed, he grabbed her injured leg again, opened the cage, and threw her in; Michael let out a surprised grunt. Rachael groaned and lifted her head to see Michael's face of horror. He looked at her injuries, his eyes widening.

Rachael couldn't move as Michael was grabbed by the neck, and taken out of the cage. The door was shut with a resounding thud. Rachael finally let the darkness take her.

…

Rachael awoke to Michael's shouts of fear. She scrambled up, her eyes dry, throat burning. Her injured leg gave out under her. She struggled over to the window and watched Michael with horror. He was in no better shape than her. There was a singed smell in the building, meaning Michael was likely shocked too. His father held a syringe, and Michael struggled against the chord on his neck.

Rachael could barely comprehend what was happening. The next thing she knew; the needle was jabbed directly into Michael's eye. Then another large syringe into the other one as he was helpless to do anything to stop it. Directly into his eyes… Rachael felt herself grow dizzy at the sight. Michael whimpered.

Mr. Clark held something up to Michael. Rachael recognized it as Michael's favorite jacket.

"See this?" Mr. Clark spoke slowly and deliberately. "Take a good, long look at this jacket. This is what you took from me. It will be the last thing you ever see." Michael was shaking like a leaf, blood and tears flowing from his eyes. His eyes were wide and red. Fear was etched into his being. A look and expression Rachael would carry with her forever.

Another syringe. Blood. Another. Blood. Another. Blood. Another. Blood. Another. Blood. Rachael had to turn away. Did he not know of the transformation? He must not… Michael must have been afraid to tell him. Then he must blame Michael for… well… Michael's disappearance… did he think the Riolu in front of him killed Michael, thanks to the jacket?

Rachael turned back to the horrific scene. Michael's eyes were squeezed shut, but that did nothing to stop the blood flowing from them like tears. He was breathing in gasping, sputtering sobs. Mr. Clark was smiling all the while. It was a cruel, twisted smile of one getting revenge. Of a man who had nothing left to lose.

It was the worst thing Rachael had ever seen.

Several hours later, Michael was thrust back into the cage. His eyes were still squeezed shut. Rachael hadn't seen him open them once since…

Something else was thrown into the cage with them. Oran Berries. Two of them. A small cup of water as well. Michael lay in the corner of the cage. He was curled up, whimpering like a puppy. His fur was still singed, his neck raw. His face was covered in smeared blood. The lights turned off, thrusting them back into darkness. Footsteps. The door opening and shutting. Silence.

"Michael?" Rachael whispered, her voice dry and hoarse. "Come on… we need to eat…" Despite his paws still being tied behind his back, he sluggishly worked his way onto his knees. Rachael used her good leg to kick an Oran berry to him. He leaned into it, slowly eating it like a quadruped would. Rachael did the same with hers. Oran berries would not heal them, but they could reduce the chances of further damage from their current injuries. These berries tasted odd, though. They had juice in them not unlike the ones that started this whole mess. Mr. Clark must be trying to give them the virus some other way. She welcomed the liquid, though, as it cooled her burning throat. After her berry was gone, she pushed the small plastic cup over to Michael.

"Here. Water." Michael quietly drank. He drank roughly one-third of its contents, before passing it off to Rachael. "Thanks," she muttered gratefully. She let the room-temperature tap water flow down her throat, relishing in it. When she was done, both she and Michael retreated to the back of the cage and leaned against each other for body warmth to shield themselves from the cold of the cage.

"I don't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself either." Rachael closed her eyes. She could feel Michael holding his breath, listening to every word. "I know you must not have told your father the truth. Don't worry. I understand why. We'll get out of here. We'll be okay. Danny and Hannah will save us. They're tough."

Michael leaned his head against her wings, as though to say "Thanks."

Rachael only hoped they actually would make it out of here.