ACT VI: SHADOWY DARK.

Oreburgh Pokemon Center.

Night time. 1:00 AM to be exact. Some would gasp at how utterly quiet and empty this town sharply became as soon as the last door was shut for the night, in stark contrast to its somewhat lively town air. What was once a comforting and welcoming atmosphere always devolved into a dark and silent warning to keep off the streets in general as no one knew what things went "bump" in the night at that time, much less saw them.

Which was a pretty valid reason for the figure in black to stroll brazenly across Coal Street, blue eyes focused on the building with the red roof dead-ahead.

The foolish residents were far too entrenched in their stupid traditions to even set up ordinary night guards and he hummed a tune in sheer delight at how easily his job would go. Given the severely-low crime rate in this side of the region, he doubted anyone would miss two random trainers come morning, if he was very careful. Hopefully, no stupid mistakes would take place, lest he kill another hapless person.

His shredded black coat swirled about in the cool wind as he stopped in front of the building.

"One black-haired, purple-eyed male and one blonde female," he recited and looked up at the building's windows. "Coming right up."

"How may I help you?" the inexperienced Nurse Joy on night time duty had requested in her slightly sleep-laced voice after being caught dozing. Even her fatigue was apparent and the man in black smiled, raising a hand to her face.

Might as well let her continue where she left off.

In an instant, her pink eyes drooped even further and seemingly lost their light, leaving her expression blank...if not hypnotized.

"The male trainer with the Chimchar and his blonde friend. Tell me where I can find them."

"Room 18, First Floor," she murmured and closed her eyes, slumbering where she stood.

The man left her there, flexing his palm which, at the moment, was giving off an eerie smoke-like haze. His steps were light, fleeting across the stairs and hallways like a shadow's and in no time at all, he came face to face with Room 18. Under his touch, the locked door slid open noiselessly and he easily blended in with the shadows on the walls, crossing the room in four quick steps, all the while keeping his eyes fixated on the lump in the single bed.

'Two adolescent children sleeping on one bed? How absurd...' were his casual thoughts as he drew closer. Though the entire room was soaked in pitch darkness, he could easily make out the mass of blonde hair sprawled across the pillow, half-buried under the sheets. His mind briefly went back to that one girl who had discovered one of his latest blunders. Yes...this had to be her. He recognized the pale blonde locks, knew the porcelain skin and could smell her scent. All he needed for confirmation was the eye color.

Said girl yawned and rubbed her eyes in her sleep, blinking a few times.

The vivid red in her eyes was as clear as blood and a very bold signal for the man swathed in black to strike. His hand drew back before lashing out like a Drapion's tail, aiming to immobilize her with a hard blow to the neck before she could react. After all, girls were much supposedly weaker than boys so he didn't need much force to bring her down.

His hand was intercepted by a rather strong grip.

Something was wrong. The hand gripping his own was too big and strong for a girl's. Hell, the red eyes now boring into him were far too angular and sharp.

There and then, the man in black understood that he had fallen for a rather simple human trick.

"Sneaking up on a girl like that ain't very polite," the gruff Twinleaf accent growled as the grip on his wrist tightened to bone-breaking proportions. The wig was stripped off and Piff grinned his sharpedo-toothed grin at his stalker. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you came to rape me. Sorry buddy but Coliot Piff Rosewood doesn't swing that way."

Hours earlier...

"So you're sure this guy's been following you?" Cynthia asked, skeptically as they made their way towards the PC.

"Positive," Piff nodded, looking over his shoulder. "At first I thought it was coincidence but when I saw that black cloak for the sixtieth time this year, I knew something was up with the guy. The other day, Johnny could've sworn he heard the guy on our way to Jubilife from Sandgem saying something about finding me and though it's just a hunch, I really think he's responsible for the migrating Rhydon that attacked us."

The girl tapped her chin thoughtfully while staring at the building where the unmistakable whiff of smoke danced. "And he said it again today. Must've been working with someone then. How did Johnny hear all that anyway? I know a Chimchar's hearing is pretty amazing but I doubt he could some guy fifty feet above us hear from way down here."

"You should try living with wild fighting-types high on berry-powder more often," Johnny deadpanned before leaning over Piff's head. "So what's the plan, toots?"

"Toots?" Cynthia echoed acidly before brushing it off and crossing her arms to make an X. "We catch him with the old switch-trick. Since his preference for girls is pretty obvious, what with all the sexist-homicide reports, I'm sure he won't hesitate to attack me if I'm the first person he encounters."

"That's where the switch thing comes in, right?" Johnny interjected, rocking back and forth on Piff's crown. "Actually, wouldn't that be dangerous to Piff?"

Cynthia caught the slightly sarcastic tone at the word 'dangerous'.

"Something tells me I'll be alright. Plus, you'll be hiding with Cynthia and her Pokémon so we can jump him, right?" Piff stated, placing a fist in his palm. "All I've gotta do is catch him."

Their travelling partner nodded and frowned a bit. "But we're working on the assumption that he knows where we're staying, doesn't have a Pokémon and isn't trained in beating our Pokémon with his bare hands. In other words, a normal but homicidal human being. Judging from his recent string of murders, I'm starting to think of him as anything but."

"Why's that?" Piff and Johnny asked in unison and each received light smacks on the head with a rolled-up newspaper.

"Because according to the news, identical figures have been apprehended by the police on numerous occasions," Cynthia huffed, placing her hand on her hip. The joint looks of confusion from her partners had her nearly face-palming. "News, guys, news! Don't tell me you don't read the freaking papers! Anyway, the catch is that none of the suspects could remember murdering anyone when interrogated. All they kept mumbling was something about a shadow they encountered one way or the other which at first seemed like rubbish. But when the crimes further increased and more and more random people got arrested, the authorities got a little dizzy. Eventually, the case was suspended when the spree ground to a halt for a while."

"And now that it started again, you want to catch this guy, don't you?" Johnny speculated, rubbing his chin and nodding. "That's crazy, though. Just how many people admitted to haywire memory?"

"About 50."

"DAFUQ?!"

Piff looked aside, contemplating the odds. "So we're either dealing with a very good framer, a hypnotist or something else entirely. Either way, we'd best be prepared."

"I've got several other plans up my sleeve just in case of any unexpected situations. I'll also tell the Nurse to announce to all the trainers to be on their guard," Cynthia suggested. "To catch a shadow, you just need the right amount of walls, eh?"

Piff's gaze flickered for a second before a broad, excited smile graced his face. "Yeah."

"You sure you'll be fine on your own, though?" Cynthia asked warily as they stopped at the Pokémon Center's glass doors. "I could always be the bait instead if you're scared as hell-"

"Scared?" Piff echoed, grinning even wider as his hand reached for his eyes. In a single swipe, Cynthia was staring at eyes redder than blood and aglow with something other than determination. The raven-haired boy swept his hair back against the wind and grabbed one street sign, smirking so dangerously that his triangular-teeth resembled Gabite-fangs, immobilizing Cynthia with his fiery gaze. "Oh please. If anything, I'm mad that some dirty stalker's gonna try and stop me from enjoying my journey."

His grip tightened on the steel post. "I'll be the bait, Cynthia. So long as I can get my hands on the 'tard, I'll be fine with anything. Now…"

There was a sharp, agonizing crunch and Cynthia needed no further confirmation of Piff's safety as he bent the post at a 60 degree angle under his powerful grip.

"Get me a wig."

…

The man hissed underneath his breath as Piff clenched even harder, undoubtedly stopping just short of breaking his arm.

"I seem to have fallen for a simple trick," the older male murmured. "I never took you for the sharp one, boy."

"You can thank someones else for that," Piff said, clasping the fingers on his free hand into a fist and socking the man's gut so hard, he was thrown into the wall. At the same time, Cynthia kicked open the closet door, unleashing Turtwig's prepared Razor Leaf. Enveloped in the green flurry, the man in black never saw Wooper drop from the ceiling with all its weight concentrated in its tail, nailing him on the head and sending him face-first into the ground. There and then, Piff got on his back, pinned his arms down and raised his head, letting him come face to face with Johnny's flaming finger held just inches from his veiled nose.

"Gotcha!" the boy declared.

The man made to struggle but stopped short as Cynthia crouched before him with Turtwig at her side, glaring threateningly at him.

"I'll cut straight to the point," she started briskly. "Who are you and what do you want with us?"

Her questions were met with silence and a narrow glare from the blue-eyed man, earning a strong squeeze on the wrist, courtesy of Piff. He let out an involuntary grunt of pain before settling down once more, gaze flickering between the grinning monkey, scowling girl, blank Wooper and glaring Turtwig.

He started with a soft chuckle. "And why do you wish to know, princess? I doubt such knowledge will be of use to you in the near future, provided you make it out of this ordeal alive."

"Very informative," she shot back sarcastically and Johnny brought his finger closer, singing the hem of his veil. "Just so you know, Sinnoh still upholds the death penalty for lowlifes like you and I'd very much prefer if you coughed up all the info I needed before we hand you over for all the crimes you've committed, Mr Serial Killer."

"Oh? And how do you know I'm the killer?"

Cynthia narrowed her eyes once she locked on to those electric blue orbs beneath the veil. "Maybe you should've killed me back in that cave."

The man made a small noise, as if finally recognizing her. "Oh! You're that girl who stumbled upon my latest…accident."

Piff's brow twitched, just as Cynthia's face paled. "So it was you! And what d'you mean by accident, bastard!"

"Just what I said, boy. The trainer your friend here encountered happened to be a victim of circumstances. Just like all the other blonde female trainers I suspected of being my assigned target."

"Now even I know that that's a lie," Johnny growled. "Should I torch him, boss?"

"Wait!" Cynthia snapped, staring hard at the man incredulously. "Something's off here. You were looking for a blonde girl, right? Why didn't you get a proper description? Why were you randomly selecting from female trainers and why did you kill them after finding them to be the wrong targets?"

"Inquisitive, aren't we?" he sniggered before suddenly growing tense. "I cannot disclose much, especially since you happen to be the wrong one as well. What I will say is that it was worth letting you live so I could track down the boy and confirm your eye colour. Also, what you're talking to is a mere shadow and I very much intend to keep it that way. By doing away with you, just like I did the others."

Unknown to them, the dark smoke wafting from his right palm earlier had gathered around his fingertips and Piff only caught wind of his plan when he felt a brief tautness in the man's arms.

"Get back!" he cried, a second too late as a bright flash enveloped the room, accompanied by a loud bang. The startled group were hurled back by the force of the small explosion and each landed in various positions away from the center, Piff against the ceiling, Wooper and Turtwig against the wall, Johnny across the floor and Cynthia right on the bed. Her eyes snapped open to see the man already advancing towards her with his smoke-filled palm aiming for her face. Luckily, Johnny had darted forward and slammed against her side, pushing her out of the way of the attack.

The man did not entirely miss, however, as his fingers grazed her cheek slightly and Cynthia yelled as fire danced through her veins for a split-second. Slapping a palm over the small but steaming cut across her left cheek, the blonde rolled across the floor and leapt to her feet in front of the entrance.

"Plan B!" she barked and Turtwig propelled itself off the wall, straight into the man's abdomen. Wooper followed up with a hard headbutt and Johnny's flaming fist kissed his chest before combusting. Flung into the air, the man was no match for Piff's fist and it sank into his gut again before hurling him right into the window. The glass cracked upon impact but the veiled man dropped like a Purrloin on all fours, looking almost unharmed. In fact, Piff and the rest were shocked to see his coat looking neither scratched nor singed from the flames.

So if they had any doubts about his humanity, they were surely cleared as he cracked his neck and flexed his smoking palms.

"I assume you all understand that I am impervious to such weak attacks," he stated, fingers twitching under the dark, crackling power. "Now if you don't mind, I will be collecting the boy and erasing you, girl."

"I doubt it!" Piff replied as he and the Pokémon gathered in front of Cynthia, each focused on the cloaked mass ahead. "Thanks for the heads up, though. Now our Pokémon won't have to hold back so much when we try and capture you."

"Capture me?" he scoffed and crouched. "How naïve. What more could you possibly do to me-" He cut his sneer off to dodge a string of Bullet Seeds fired from the angry Turtwig. His eyes narrowed even further. "I see. I suppose I should stop blathering and get on with my job. En garde!"

"Piff, take over while I go initiate Plan C. Don't kill him, guys," Cynthia barked, strangely whipping out a notebook as Johnny, Wooper and Turtwig charged.

"Roger!" they cried in unison and lunged for the man. With reflexes akin to an Arbok's, he weaved past Wooper's Slam attack, parried Turtwig's Tackle and boldly blocked Johnny's kick with his sleeved arm. With a croak, Wooper skidded to a halt and made a 180, slamming against his spine and clinging tightly with its toothless jaws. At the same time, Johnny grabbed his arm and Turtwig chomped hard on his shoulder. All three went rock-stiff, holding him down with their combined weight, long enough for Piff to close in and jam his foot into the man's ribcage.

"Weak!" said man declared, flinging the Pokémon off as his cloak stiffened and let out a uniform wave of strong, ebony energy.

"Think so?" Piff replied, standing his ground by jamming one foot straight through the floor. He pivoted on it and swung his free foot a complete 360 with as much force as he could carefully summon, ignoring the searing heat in his leg as he cut through the black wave and crashed his heel into the man's neck. Stunned, the man careened into the window again, cracking it further and gripping the railing.

For his neck to smart painfully despite his supposed invincibility was enough to convince him that the boy was undoubtedly stronger than any normal human and his eyes widened upon seeing Piff's burnt leg exude a light pinkish steam.

"Surprised?" the boy jeered, kicking the air once and showing off his now-healed leg. "This is why you're after me, isn't it?"

"Quite correct," he coughed out, straightening up. "But for you to become this adept at controlling your strength…that Zoey must've trained you quite well."

Piff froze for a second before taking his fighting stance once more. "Just who are you?"

"A shadow," he replied, snapping forward again only to suddenly lose his footing. Looking down, he noticed the slimy trail Wooper had left from the earlier round and only realized that he was falling when Johnny's swinging fist clocked him on the nose. A short explosion later, he was back against the window, slamming so hard into it this time that some glass came away upon collision.

And just as he raised his head, Turtwig and Wooper rocketed so hard into his gut that the window was blown open and he took a 30ft dive for the concrete ground below. Cursing slightly, his gloved hands sprouted black talons and drove themselves into the wall, tearing some off as he came to rest just short of a fractured predicament.

Then he heard a short roar and Piff's foot kissed his face, making him lose his hold and continue his drop. It was thankfully short for him but he still left a sizable crack in the ground due to Piff's weight on his chest.

On the ravenette's part, he was a little bit amazed that his opponent had withstood the fall.

"Surprised?" the man echoed sarcastically and gave a sharp roll, knocking Piff off. Jumping to his feet, he readily anticipated the next round of attacks from the three Pokémon ambushing him and in a matter of seconds, Wooper got flung into Turtwig, knocking them both towards Johnny who dodged and continued forward with both fists in flames.

Making note of the more experienced Chimchar's power, he dodged past the fiery punches, avoided the spinning kick and made to bat Johnny away when his trainer called for a Flame Wheel. Still in mid-air, Johnny miraculously avoided the oncoming arm and literally burst into flames before rolling across the length of his arm and grazing his veiled face, all in a mere 2 seconds. The monkey zipped past him and skidded against the floor, slightly dizzy from the high-speed attack and suffered a kick on the behind from the recovered man.

Piff caught his sailing Pokémon before he could dash his head against the curb.

"You okay?" he quickly asked.

"Just dandy," Johnny hissed, rubbing his rear and glaring acidly at the man. "That guy's pretty speedy and his body's sturdy as fuck."

"We'll need to put in as much power as we can if we're gonna beat this guy," the boy said, setting him down. "I'm confident I can break through his defenses but I'm pretty sure he'll do all he can to try and avoid that."

"Want a distraction?" Johnny asked.

"Covered!" a voice yelled from behind and the two looked back before quickly ducking as a combination of searing flames, speeding chunks of rocks, air slashes and other projectile attacks blew overhead and enveloped the cloaked man, exploding upon contact.

"What the hell, Cynthia!" the duo cried angrily at their blonde partner standing in the midst of several trainers.

Cynthia twirled a lock of hair blankly. "Oh, sorry about that. With you guys flying around and distracting him, I felt it was the perfect opportunity for us to close in and position ourselves." She gestured to the trainers and their Pokémon, smirking as the blue eyes within the smoke darted to and fro, finding themselves surrounded on all sides by the cavalry.

"And as you can see, we've got this dangerous Buneary right where I want him."

'Scary…' they remarked, noticing the glint in her steel-grey eyes.

Cynthia stepped forward as the trainers rallied their Pokémon for more attacks. "So what'll it be, Mr Serial Killer? Each and every one of these trainers are strong in their own right and are quite prepared to blow holes in you for the mayhem you've caused in their town."

The man cloaked in black stilled for a moment, contemplating his circumstances. Slowly, his cloak began to rise despite the lack of wind in the air and many of the onlooking trainers tensed at his countenance.

On the contrary, Cynthia looked quite calm as she pulled out her notebook. "Oh yeah, I've figured out your weakness too."

Piff caught the man flinch.

"Oh?" he sneered. "And what could that be, girl?"

Cynthia flipped through the pages of her notebook, paused on the desired page and snapped the book shut with a confident smirk. "Not telling. Get him, guys!"

And all hell was let loose as the trainers yelled attack after attack with each respective Pokémon firing away with proper restraint. The man put up his arms and his cloak swelled to form a huge black shield, taking the brunt of the attacks.

"Looks like his power is in the cloak," Piff commented, watching him getting pushed back by each attack.

"Took you long enough to notice," Cynthia deadpanned, observing the scene. "But what I want to know is why his cloak can do all that. I doubt its some ordinary piece of cloth, given what it can do."

Johnny spoke up. "If it's about the cloak then I'm pretty sure I noticed something."

"What?" they asked simultaneously, eager for info.

Johnny scratched his head in thought. "This may sound weird…and I swear I ain't high this time. When I used my Flame Wheel, I was very sure I heard the cloak grunt in pain. And I had a good aim on that bum's face but I can swear on my secret stash of berry powder that something pushed me away before I could make contact."

Cynthia arched a quizzical brow while Piff went into thinking mode.

"Johnny's got a point. He had a clear shot and the killer's arms were pretty busy. Come to think of it…"

They gazed at the black shield and the chill Piff had been feeling for a while intensified. "His cloak felt pretty cold when I kicked him earlier. And he always reacted whenever I was the one doing the hitting."

"Plus, I can assume we've never seen clothing that sleek," Cynthia chipped in and all three of them nodded. "That settles it. We've gotta come at him from a whole new perspective."

"What d'you have in mind?" Piff asked.

Cynthia cast the shielded man a hard glance. "Piff, I want you to rip that cloak off."

As expected, the boy balked. "H-hey! I already told you I don't swing that way! You can't just tell me to strip a guy-"

"Do you want to continue your journey?" Cynthia cut in sharply.

"Of course!"

"Then shut up and strip him down!"

Johnny sweatdropped. "Nice choice of words, blondie."

"You don't exactly have a choice, either," Cynthia continued, pointing over to their target. "I don't know about you but I'm pretty sure Mr Serial Killer's revving up for one hell of a fight."

"Like, he's getting serious?!"

In answer to that, someone screamed and the trio swerved to face the gruesome sight of a trainer's Machop impaled through the side with a long black spike, coming from the killer's dark shield. Without warning, more spikes extended from the shield, scratching some, piercing others and skewering two or three Pokémon at a time.

"I'm getting tired of this dilly-dallying," the man called, retracting the blood-stained spines and shield. Collective gasps ensued as the blood on his cloak dissolved into the black material and he relished in their sudden looks of fright as two black wings tore out of his back, each one spanning the length of an Arbok. His cloak swirled as he straightened up, gazing down on the surprised trio dead ahead. His blue eyes finally carried that menacing and sinister glint Cynthia remembered as they roved between each trainer and their miraculously-alive Pokémon.

"I intended to keep this mission civil and above all else, quiet. However, you just had to get more people involved, Cynthia Shirona."

How he knew her full name was beyond the stiff girl's comprehension. Not that she could care about that. Not when he took off with a single flap of his wings, blowing away everything in his path towards her. In a mere five seconds, he had knocked everything else but her away, closed the distance between them and was currently touching down before her with his black talons poised.

"Enough of this nonsense, girl. I've already dyed my hands with enough blood for one night and I will make sure your death will be the last mistake I ever make," he declared.

In that one moment when her brain was screaming for her to move, Cynthia found herself absolutely rooted.

"Like hell," she caught herself whispering as her stunned expression morphed into that of proud defiance. Even in her seemingly last moments, her pride refused to let her show any fear and she seemingly anticipated the blow that would most certifiably end her short life. Cynthia Shirona was not backing down from this fight like a cowardly Growlithe. Not when she had so many plans and goals!

She ignored the tiny voice asking her who she was kidding.

"Die," her executioner said, driving his talons forward.

And sinking them into the chest appearing before her grey eyes.

Piff remained firm even after having five six inch talons driven through his heart and the equally stunned killer made a short hissing sound of annoyance as the boy's blood spilled endlessly onto the concrete road.

"Boss!" Johnny cried.

"Hmph," the man huffed. "What're you doing, boy?"

Piff raised his head, grinned and grabbed the killer's arm with both hands. "Gotcha."

Cynthia blinked in confusion, shock and horror as the mortally injured boy looked over his shoulder.

"The hell were you standing there for, Cynthia? You weren't supposed to be the bait till we had no other choice."

The girl made to speak, to refute his statement and point out what she really felt on the inside. Upon seeing his blood-stained smile however, she clammed up, realizing his true intentions.

"Hmph," she suddenly scoffed, crossing her arms. "Time was wasting so I felt it necessary to take him down sooner than later. Now shut up and strip him."

"Impossible," the man murmured as Piff gave a sharp yank and, with a loud popping sound, dislocated the arm from its socket. A second later, he gripped the cloak's collar and pulled with all his strength. This turned out to be overkill as the piece in his grip ripped off so easily that Piff didn't immediately register the skin-like feel to the soft material.

What they did see was enough to ingrain itself in their memories for a long, long time.

The cloak was bleeding.

"What the fuck!" Johnny screamed incredulously, jumping back lest he got burned by the red-hot blood spraying from the twisting piece of black in Piff's grasp. The boy himself was also shocked but he quickly got over it, given the high-pitched, duo-tonal scream the killer released. Within the constantly swirling fabric, Piff and Cynthia could make out what seemed to be a pale torso with jagged black veins lining the edges where the cloak had been ripped out, connecting flesh to sleek darkness like a parasite to its host.

Before either of them could do anything else, the screaming man lifted a foot and smashed it against Piff's chest, forcefully ripping his arm from the boy's chest. Piff staggered for a bit before dropping on one knee, gripping his bleeding chest with one hand and holding on to the living fabric with the other.

Beside him, Cynthia inspected the fabric and nodded to herself as her thinking gears spun furiously. In all truth, she already had a theory but never gave it much thought, given how utterly crazy and illogical it sounded.

But as she looked upon the writhing figure ahead, she realized that in a world filled with super-powered animals, illogical was the norm.

"It makes sense now," she stated, loud enough for the killer to pause his writhing and cast a truly acidic look from his reddening eyes. The expression soon turned to horror as she took out a flashlight and pointed it at the fabric in Piff's hands.

The ear-splitting scream he made when she flicked the switch was enough to prove her crazy theory correct as the dismembered strip fizzled into nothing with a quiet hiss.

"You." Cynthia pointed the flash at him for emphasis. "Are a Darkrai."

Like mirrors, each and every person and Pokémon reflected equal looks of surprise save for Cynthia. The figure before her slowly brought his teeth together in a quiet, annoyed growl befitting of a man who had just been found out.

Without further ado, Cynthia launched into an explanation. "I thought it was strange how all 60 of the apprehended suspects claimed amnesia at the times of their supposed crimes. What really threw me off was how the police found an 80 year old disabled man among such suspects. Amnesia aside, he shouldn't have been able to move and yet, he was found at the scene of another gruesome murder, actively stamping on the corpse of the latest victim. So upon reading that up, I immediately guessed that some supernatural power might've been involved. But I initially thought it'd be a psychic, or something like that. When the law enforcement's very own psychic Pokémon confirmed a lack of telekinetic signature, and the fact that not one of the suspects was lying, it threw me in for a loop."

Cynthia tapped the flashlight on her chin as if immersed in her thoughts. "Yes, it does make sense, seeing as Psychic Pokémon might as well be blind when it comes to the matter of anything dark. The perfect cover for a homicidal Dakrai such as yourself."

"Then why didn't you figure that out sooner!" Johnny snapped, annoyed.

"Because something like that isn't supposed to exist!" she retorted, casting the pale glow of her torch on the killer who instinctively flinched. "And now I see how you were able to move around during the day time, Mr Killer. I presume that conveniently latching on to any human of your choice grants you a level of immunity against your greatest predator, harsh light like that of the sun's. Once you've carried out a murder, you immediately evacuate and the poor host is left in the lurch to suffer for your crimes."

Her grip on the torch tightened.

"...Your first host, an innocent man, died because of you," she uttered, expression hooded. "But that's all in the past. Judging by all the rubbish you've spouted, I gathered that we humans must look the same to you, hence the numerous 'accidents', as you've put it. And that, my good murderer, is how you got the title of 'Serial Killer' pinned to your head like the very veil you shield the face of your latest host with."

A long minute was all it took for the killer's countenance to take a turn for the worse.

"Bitch…" he spat, tone harsher, more barbaric and somewhat mixed-in with another person's entirely. "You're certainly smarter than I anticipated, even by human standards."

Johnny's ears twitched upon realizing how familiar the underlying tone sounded, as did his trainer.

Slowly, the killer's clawed hands gripped the concrete and tightened into fists. "I bet you figured all of that out in the mere 20 minutes I've spent knocking back your flimsy defenses. Hell, I'm sure you sent all these weaklings out for the purpose of assessing my power. You even went as far as to have the boy sacrifice himself for an opening, all according to your plans. This may be the pot calling the kettle black but…that seems a bit cruel, doesn't it?"

Other than the sharp twitch in Cynthia's eye, her expression remained placid. Calculating. "I suppose. But I did get some juicy results."

For some reason, Darkrai laughed at the statement and bowed his head. "It should've been you."

Then two massive arms sprouted from his back and propelled themselves towards Cynthia, aiming to crush her in one swoop. But once again, the girl stood firm without even the slightest trace of worry.

The hands slammed against each other with the blonde in between and the killer smirked, victorious. However, he soon turned confused as he felt a sudden pressure from within his grip, forcing the hands apart.

From the cracks between the clasped fingers, a small flame burned. Then the hold broke apart in a flurry of leaves and flames.

"What?!" he hissed as Cynthia remained unharmed with Johnny and Turtwig standing protectively before her. What was more shocking was the boy behind her, holding the massive palms at bay without so much as breaking a sweat (not that he could see any sweat, given the amount of blood on Piff's face). "How did they get to her so quickly?!"

"You've got better things to worry about, bastard," Piff growled, looking positively maddened as his fingers dug into the wall-like palms with a short crack. Cynthia wisely cleared the way as he gave a sharp tug and the killer soon found himself pulled right into Piff's red-eyed glare and sharpedo-like smile.

"You know," he began, pupils contracting into odd, serpentine slits. "I feel like I've been pretty underestimated here. You're clearly too over-leveled for any of our Pokémon to beat-"

"Hey!" Johnny snapped.

"So why don't I even the odds, Mr Darkrai," Piff continued, unnerving the entity behind the wide blue eyes. The ravenette clenched his fingers and shattered the arms sprouting from back before grabbing the cloak's collar and hurling the man into the air.

"I-Impossible," Darkrai stuttered, eyes on the boy's ghastly injuries. "How can he still have this much strength despite all the blood he's lost? I was never briefed on such a level of power."

Below him, Piff reached out and grabbed the steel post he had bent earlier. Ripping it out from the ground, he stepped up to the base and smirked deviously.

"Batter up!" he exclaimed and swung the post with all his might, crashing it into the falling figure's abdomen, spinning him a complete 360 and sending him flying, post and all, right into the PC's signboard, a good 20ft above. The Darkrai smashed through the steel sign, got horribly electrocuted by the various snapped wires providing the lighting and burst through the opposite wall before falling unto the Nurse's counter, dazed.

From his blurred vision, he made out the pair of legs walking up to him and tried to move as fast as the injured body under his control could manage.

"I wouldn't try that," Piff warned, pointing the sharp edge of the sign on the steel post at his neck.

"You…" He coughed out a long stream of scarlet and smirked defiantly. "Did neither of you think about the man currently in my possession? As the girl had said, this body is certainly not mine and therefore a suitable hostage."

Slowly, he raised one clawed finger and put it to his own head. "If you don't want the oblivious person within to wake up in hell, I suggest you surrender now or-"

"You're bluffing."

The Darkrai stopped short at Piff's casual interjection. Seeing this, the ravenette tilted his head in a mocking manner.

"Gimme some credit already, pal. Even I know that killing the body means an automatic trip to the Arceus-land for you too. I mean, you guys are literally joined at the brain in this situation."

Darkrai's eyes narrowed. "You little…"

"Fun fact," Cynthia's voice called from behind and they both looked up to see her sitting casually on the stairs, notebook in hand and coy smirk on her face. "Guess what beats Dark-types? Hint, it's why my Gible hasn't seen any action for a while."

Her stunned target felt his eyes go wide. "Wha-"

She cut him off with a simple command. "Rock Smash."

And the ground below the killer's feet erupted in a flurry of sand and scaly fists as Gible, who had been placed underground the entire time, unleashed his super-charged move. The attack must've turned into a Sky Uppercut as he was literally volleyed back into the air.

"Piff!" he heard the blonde cry and spun to see her ripping a single page from her notebook, swiping it on Wooper's slimy skin and slapping it unto the steel post in Piff's grasp.

When he understood that she had just slapped a Cleanse Tag with a freaking Lunar Wing attached to it, the Darkrai knew that Cynthia Shirona was a force to be reckoned with when partnered with his clearly overpowered target.

'The third unexpected singularity has shown herself! Who knows what impact she'll have on the boy in the near future!' he inwardly declared as Piff drew the sign post back and swung with all his might.

The cleanse tag, lunar wing and solid steel hit him squarely on the chest and a brilliant white light burst forth from the collision, casting its harsh radiance on everything in sight and burning off whatever hold the screeching Darkrai had on his host. Every cell within its body was also subjected to torment, making it physically impossible for him to hold on to the body he was slowly being ripped away from.

Despite all of that, he laughed once again and finally let go of his host, taking on his true form.

Through the bright light, Piff, Cynthia, Johnny and their Pokémon caught sight of the Darkrai's nightmarish silhouette and tensed.

"Damn. It wasn't enough?" the Chimchar cursed, setting his fist alight. "Just what the hell are you, freak show?!"

"Relax, it's your win for now," Darkrai chuckled, tone hoarse and dry like a desert. It sent chills down their spines, excluding Piff and only made them edgier. However, Piff held the steel post over them.

"Don't worry. He's nothing more than a shadow now, consumed by the light."

Something seemed off with the boy's tone but they brushed it aside once Darkrai began to speak.

"Congratulations on successfully surviving this round, Cynthia Shirona. However, this now makes you an Unexpected Singularity, a potential foil in fate's plans and thus a threat that must be annihilated at all costs. I must report this to my masters."

"Masters? Who are they?" Cynthia asked and got a scornful laugh in return.

"You'll find out soon enough. Though such information is redundant to a walking corpse such as yourself-"

A shoe hurtled through the Darkrai's broad, black chest, phased through and fell unceremoniously unto the ground. Darkrai gave the plimsoll a dead-eyed look and swiveled his gaze over to the scowling Piff whose red eyes seemed to glow fiercely against the bright light, looking rather pink.

"If you're done, leave," the ravenette stated-no, commanded- acerbically. "And tell your masters not to get in my way."

"Oh?" Darkrai's eyes narrowed in amusement. "I almost forgot about you. All I have for you is a word of advice, Coliot Rosewood. Great Despair awaits you, Entity of Unknown Origins. And as you have commanded, I shall take my leave."

Then he bowed and began to drift back.

"This is just the beginning, my friends," he proclaimed airily as his body started to disintegrate within the light. "By the time this ordeal is over, you won't even see the darkness coming…"

His soft laughter echoed long after he disappeared from sight, rattling them all to the bones up until the last peal vanished into thin air.

Uniform sighs of relief escaped their lips as the tenseness disappeared with him and Cynthia finally gave in to the trembling she had long been holding back.

"H-he got away," she croaked and lifted her spasm-ridden fingers to her face. "A-arceus, that was s-scary."

Piff lowered the post in his hand, bringing down the body slung over it as well. Judging by body structure and weight, it was most certainly a man and he gently placed the person before his feet, allowing Johnny the chance to place a yellow palm on his chest.

"Dude's alive," he remarked, turning to his trainer though his eyes flickered on the face behind the reddish-brown hair. He was very sure he had seen this guy before. But where…?

"Cynthia."

The blonde looked up to see Piff crouching down to her level. Only then did she realize that she had sank to her knees, unable to hold herself steady. Then again, it wasn't at all that surprising now that her confidence-rush was gone and given the near-death experience she had gone through. All because of her own self-righteous obligation to catch something that was virtually beyond her human power.

Nina was nearly right.

She could've died. That statement alone made her stomach lurch.

"Cynthia!"

Piff was shaking her now and the up-close-and-personal glowing red in his eyes brought her back to Earth. Unfortunately, that meant her seeing the copious amounts of blood on her travelling partner's clothes and she put a hand to her mouth to hold back a gasp.

She had never even asked if he was okay. Hell, he shouldn't be standing with that injury to his heart.

"P-Piff…" she stammered, grabbing hold of the hands on her shoulders. "Your chest."

The ravenette paused before looking down at his chest, almost as if noticing the injury for the first time. "Oh that." The fool had the nerve to grin. "Worst injury I ever had but it'll heal, trust me. But are you okay? You got really pale and cold all of a sudden."

Either Piff was ignorant or he was simply considerate enough not to mention the fear her shoulders were exuding. Johnny himself could smell the fear wafting from the blonde and decided to step in.

"Hey guys. Shouldn't we, like, get all the injured to a hospital and stuff? I mean, this guy looks pretty banged up."

Attention diverted, the teens looked to the unconscious man and their eyes went wide upon recognizing the familiar face behind the locks of cordovan.

"Roark?!"