Chapter Two: Hellhounds
Miles opened his eyes as a shrill noise pierced his ears. He swiftly sat up and dealt with the gadget, stretching out and preparing for their mission. The same couldn't be said for his partner. Claire's foot was pressed against his shoulder as she hugged the satchel tightly against her frame. Miles began to dig through his bag until he found their rations, and within a few minutes he had a fire going and a small pot of water boiling. Miles sprinkled coffee grounds in while setting out their breakfast.
A few moments later, the typhlosion gently prodded her awake. "A few more minutes," Claire mumbled before turning onto her side. Miles waiting a couple of seconds before prodding her again. "Whaaaat?"
"Time to get up," he said. "We've got someone to save." At least, he hoped that was the case. Claire sat up, staring off into darkness with bags under her eyes. Her nose twitched when she smelled their breakfast and coffee. They ate quickly; the caffeine boost certainly helped with the lingering sleepiness. Miles stamped the fire out and they were on their way.
Sunlight would soon claim the sky, lingering behind mountains and pines. Dew dampened their feet as they trudged forth, and if one stopped to listen closely, distant songs of birds carried throughout the early morning air.
It took several hours of brisk walking to arrive at their destination, bringing them there around midday. Both Miles' and Claire's expressions dropped. A zebstrika was standing alongside a single magneton officer with a blitzle by her hind leg. The second she noticed their arrival, she raced towards them. A flurry of hurried statements, nearly indecipherable, was fired upon them. Claire flinched, trying to calm the panicking electric-type.
"Ma'am, please slow down," the braixen said. "We've already read the report. We're getting ready to go after him now."
"You needed to be here yesterday!" she all but shrieked.
"…We were like four hundred miles away, ma'am. We came as fast as we could."
"I-I'm sorry, I'm just—" She swallowed. "Those demons came outside the caves. They came after us, and my mate… he… he drew them away. You're bringing him back to us, alright?!" Claire nodded. It was a fierce denial of her worst fears, no matter how likely they may be.
"We're going in now, alright? You just stay here with your kid and the officer." She exchanged a glance with Miles, who nodded and started towards the mystery dungeon.
It had been some time since they'd come here. Moss grew along the floors and walls. A series of small creeks trickled from some unseen source, spreading out and emitting mist into the morning air. Combined with darkness, it was going to be challenging to navigate. And as with all mystery dungeons, the earth itself shifted every so often. Whatever supernatural force was in play to allow such abnormalities was beyond their reckoning, but as long as Miles had been a part of this world – and well before that – mystery dungeons had also existed.
Darkness overtook them as they entered the caves. Miles withdrew an oil-filled lantern from their supply bag and exhaled a gentle flame before leading the way. Best to save Claire's wand for when they might need it.
He remembered when they had initially set out for Lively Town, leaving Serene Village as children – a foolish endeavor as far as anyone with sense would have been concerned, but a gamble that had done the world well. A glimmer within the darkness caught Miles' eye and he knelt down. A crystalline gem seemed to sprout from roots anchored by nothing apparent, almost growing as though it were a plant from another dimension. Red. He nodded, plucking it and turning around.
'Hmm?' Claire tilted her head. Telepathy was always used when their surroundings weren't safe. He took her wrist and embedded the emera within her blue looplet. 'Guard boost?'
'Yes.' He felt that he could be a little more at peace now.
They kept onward, eyes jumping towards every shadow and stone. Claire all but stayed at his hip, wand withdrawn and ready for ignition at a moment's notice. But as they continued onward, an hour drifting by since they'd entered the cave system, both fire-types saw nothing. They were completely alone.
'This doesn't make any sense,' Claire's voice rang within his mind. 'We haven't seen a single wild pokémon yet. Where is everyone?'
'No clue,' he murmured, 'but I don't like it.' Something had scared them away – and he had a pretty good idea what that might have been.
'You know, looking back, I don't think we've ever seen a houndoom that wasn't hostile.' He shrugged while coming to a stop before a pair of emeras, both purple and blue – barrage and power boost Y. He took the former and gave Claire the latter. 'Why do you think that is?'
'What?'
'Oh, try to keep up Miles. I asked why houndooms always seem to be downright nasty.' He thought about it for a moment as they continued towards an exit to their current cave, likely an opening into the greater system. He hadn't recalled meeting many of them in the civilized world, and from those he had met, the braixen did have a point.
'Culture that promotes aggression and violence. Look like demons and tend to act the part. Why act differently if that's how they're going to be viewed?' There were surely some out there that weren't so bad. But admittedly, they had yet to meet them.
'I think it's because they lost their ears,' Carry replied. Miles stopped in place and shot her a confused glance.
'…Huh?'
'Haven't you noticed? They don't have ears. Evolution really did them dirty like that.'
'I… hadn't really paid attention…'
'Or maybe their ears somehow got all hard and turned into their horns. That would explain everything. Still, how'd you like to hear through a pointy bone like that? Yeesh…'
'Well you hear through all that hair…'
'That's different.' Miles rolled his eyes. While her antics were out of place, he appreciated what she was trying to do. He'd known Claire long enough to recognize when she was trying to distract from a brutal reality.
The reality that, if they were to find this zebstrika, they would probably stumble upon what was left of his carcass.
That scared him. Not just the sheer evilness within these pockets of anarchy, but the fact that if they did find something like that, they'd need to carry it back to his mate. So Miles fully welcomed any quips on her part. Not that he ever told her to pipe down, anyways…
They squinted upon stepping outside. Caves twisted and gnarled in each direction, the result of several onix tunnelling throughout these mountains. Miles and Claire could very well be here for a while, and that led to another unfortunate reality with this mission: they might not have the time to choose wrong. If the scenario were any different, they could split up to cover more ground, though Miles always detested that idea. It wasn't a possibility here, though; their enemies were immune to a good portion of Claire's attacks. And rescue mission or not, Miles wasn't willing to risk his partner's safety for that of a stranger. Perhaps that made him a poor rescuer, but he was fine with that.
'Alright, let's think. He probably ran this way. Doubt the dungeon changed that much in a few days.' She looked downwards, seeing a large expanse downwards which revealed a couple of caves. 'Unless he slipped over the edge, I doubt he went down there…' Miles observed the others. Both he and Claire possessed an acute sense of smell, but that hardly compared to an entire pack of houndooms. It also didn't help that any trail that might've been left was long gone.
Four separate caves were strewn around at their current level, though more stretched out through various cliffs overhead. 'This one,' Miles said.
'Huh? Why's that?'
'If he was running, he probably went for the closest.'
'Well… I guess that's as good a theory as any.' It wasn't like standing around and pondering the matter indefinitely was doing them any good. The fire-types headed into the opening. Sunlight filtered into the cave, piercing through swirling mist that danced in front of his lantern. Rumbling earth caught nearly caught them off balance. 'Dang it! Already?' Claire said. Nothing seemed to happen within this particular cave, though, so they kept moving forward.
Miles' foot brushed across a clump of damp moss. He stopped in place, noting a putrid scent drifting in the wind. Claire's nose twitched as she caught it too. Gut rot. 'Eww. That's gross.' Ears drooping, he searched for a source, fearing that the worst had come to pass. There would be no amount of soap that would make them feel clean if that's what they were transporting back. The air suffocated them, taunting them with its filth as they searched for any sign of life or death.
Eventually they found it.
A shiver went down his spine as the typhlosion looked down a wide descent. Several houndooms strutted by, a few with pups, with bones cracking underneath as they waited. Stalagmites jutted upwards like teeth amongst the countless piles of bones, few with trace amounts of red left. Scattered about were remnants of pokémon that couldn't be consumed so easily, horns and fragments of rock dispersed from what had once been the local populace. The empty ribcage of a bouffalant was centered on a large, horizontal slab of stone that apparently served as a table of sorts.
It now occurred to Miles why they hadn't seen anyone else. 'M-Miles…' They pulled back before they were spotted. 'I don't like this one bit…'
'They've cleaned out the locals,' he said, his gaze stone-set despite her mortified expression. 'So now they're attacking people outside the dungeon…'
'And what does that make us?!'
'Too late if we don't keep moving. I didn't see anything that looked like a zebstrika down there, so there still might be a chance,' he replied. That was, of course, assuming they hadn't finished their kill and had yet to drag him back.
Miles blew out his lantern. They stuck to walls, blending with the shadows now that they were in populated territory. Last thing they needed was to alert an entire pack before they had found their target. A knot formed in the typhlosion's stomach, remaining even after the smell of death had grown far away.
This was not the mission to do right before heading into Serene Village. Miles mentally berated himself; visions of skeletons and the lingering smell of rotted filth was probably the worst way they could have begun their vacation. But missions like this needed to be done. Given that no other rescue teams had offered to take the job, Miles and Claire were the only chance this zebstrika had of making it back alive. That was always a high-pressure feeling. He tried not to let it get to him, brushing it off just as he had back when they fought against Dark Matter. Nervousness did nothing to help accomplish a mission.
As they crept alongside the moss-ridden wall, sunlight peaked around a nearby corner – another opening. They had been walking for nearly three hours, and upon stepping outside, the afternoon sun beamed down on them. He had to wait for his vision to adjust again. At that moment, he saw three houndooms jogging towards a steep incline. They rushed up and disappeared just as quick.
'Miles…'
'We're following them.' If they couldn't find the zebstrika, they would find the pack tracking him down.
The fire-types rushed outside and towards the incline, scrambling up its side much faster thanks to their bipedal capabilities. Miles helped his partner up the last step before they swiftly surveyed the area ahead. They'd worked their way outside of the typical mystery dungeon system, but this area was still claimed by the wilds. Every trace of vegetation had long been blackened. Miles spotted the houndooms rushing past one cave and sticking along a slim overhang before disappearing from sight. Must be getting close, Miles thought. If they were in this much of a rush, something was certainly happening. Now it remained to see if they were too late or not. Fire danced along the mountain as they drew near.
And then lightning.
They paused in front of the scene, trying to process all that was in front of them. The mountain shone like a gleaming coal amid golden sunlight. Houndooms had cornered their prey, surrounding him as he tried in vain to back further up the steep slope, helped in no part by a crimson gash of gnawed muscle on his hind leg. The zebstrika fought with every ounce of desperation within a creature making his last stand. And with nearly twenty enemies around him, this very well could be just that. Each jolt had become little more than a mild shock as they closed in.
Miles glanced at Claire and nodded. She fired a series of shadow balls while Miles stomped the ground, sending a rippling wave towards the houndooms. Surprised snarls followed as bodies rolled down the mountain, a series of narrowed eyes finding two new targets. "Hey assholes!" Claire yelled, igniting her wand. Not the best choice of first words, but an accurate one.
One houndoom stepped ahead of the rest, yellowed fangs bared as he glared at them with a carnal, malicious hunger. He was the only one amongst the pack that didn't look malnourished. Miles slowed his breathing. All of a sudden, his flame vents ignited. There was no way a fight wasn't about to happen. He glanced at the zebstrika overhead, then back towards the pack. The electric-type wasn't going anywhere. "More meat," the leader spat. "Very well." And without another word, they charged as a unit.
Claire put a light screen over both of them before striking first. Dazzling gleam. Miles quickly averted his gaze as a bright flash overtook everything, bombarding the houndooms relentlessly. He followed it up with an earthquake before charging on all fours to intercept the disoriented enemies. Miles felt his fist impact the face of one houndoom, uppercutting right under his jaw and turning his body violently to follow through. The creature let out little more than a yelp as it was sprawled out. Two more took his place.
A shadow ball crashed into one, knocking him back for a moment as Miles quickly jumped the other. Horns tried digging into his flesh, clutched at the last moment as the typhlosion's hind legs planted into the ground. He thrust downward and connected his knee to its face, then hurled the houndoom down. Miles' eyes were wild and frantic. He didn't have time to single out his next target; that choice was made for him. The typhlosion snarled as fangs pierced his back, twisting around and slamming the enemy down.
Flames and fists flew. Miles, closer to the enemies, was targeted more often, always keeping Claire in his peripheral as combat ensued. She jumped between boulders, levitation in each bound to keep her well out of danger's reach as she fired back with shadow balls and signal beams. A heavy impact to Miles' stomach nearly took his breath as he folded up. Immediately several houndooms were on him, gnashing around for any opening, one sinking its putrid teeth into his forearm as he guarded his neck.
"MILES!" He heard Claire's yell from beneath them, his eyes snapping open as he released a primal growl. Electricity coursed along his fur, and by then it was far too late for them to retreat. Howls of pain carried across the air as he sent a vicious current into the houndooms, one of which was locked into place. Miles stood up, gripping the canine still connected at his arm, pivoted his body and threw him down the mountainside. He stepped over the other houndoom, still writhing in place as he went towards their leader.
And then he heard Claire cry out.
He spun around, dashing towards the source. She stumbled back, shooting a signal beam towards one opponent as the other pivoted around. The smell of blood came from his claws. Her blood. The hellhound had waited for her ally to distract Claire and had slashed from behind. Both charged at once with full intentions of ending her life.
Miles crashed the full weight of his body into both of them. One he lost sight of, the other he grabbed by the horns, lifting her up in his adrenaline before slamming her head onto stone. Miles snarled, his pointed teeth bared as he bashed the creature's head several times in a row. She went limp long before crimson stained his hands. "Miles look out!" He pivoted around, thrusted himself off the ground and collided with their leader. Everything was black and red, a final offensive from the rest of their pack as they swarmed both Miles and Claire.
Miles twisted as another dazzling gleam took everyone's sight. Tooth and claw scraped along his body, but he threw his fist into something soft. A crack was heard. The larger houndoom stumbled back, gagging on his own blood. Red spittle foamed at his mouth as he struggled not to fall over. For the briefest of seconds, eyes were on him as everyone realized what had happened. But Miles went right back to work, kicking another houndoom's side before looking for his next target.
What he didn't expect was for one of the houndooms to leap off him and charge their leader. Teeth sank into the larger one's throat and with a vicious twist, blood sprayed along stone. "Not true combat!" another yelled. "You have no claim to the pack!"
"He was weak! Never the first to fight, but always the first to eat!" the killer snarled. "Now get back in line!" The other houndoom had no intention of obeying. It only took a few seconds for them to lunge at each other, fighting for control of what remained. Miles turned around, taking Claire's wrist and running towards the side.
"What are we—"
"Distraction," the typhlosion simply said. They hurried towards the zebstrika, now collapsed on his side with labored breaths. He struggled for footing as they ascended the cliffside. "Can you move?"
"I-I think…"
"Well you have no choice. Now come!" One houndoom snarled at the others, bringing their attention back towards the escaping trio. But they had given Miles and Claire more than enough time to position themselves. The braixen telekinetically grabbed ahold of loose rocks along the mountainside, hurling them in a barrage that threatened to break bone on contact. And it worked. Those who didn't lose consciousness quickly retreated, deciding that their lives weren't worth a meal.
That didn't stop them from putting distance between themselves and where they had just fought. Miles led them back towards the mystery dungeon, their pace becoming slower with each consecutive step. But they had to keep going. He wasn't about to risk their safety on the whim of what remained of that pack.
"I think… I think we lost them," the zebstrika stammered. White stripes had grown brown from crusted blood. Each step brought a limp, a good quarter of his muscle gnawed and shredded. How he'd escaped such a bite was beyond Miles.
"There are others," the typhlosion said. "Could be waiting to ambush us."
"Miles… I think we're good. I think we need to take a minute…" He clenched his fist, thoughts of their fight still hot on his mind, blood still boiling. But eventually his heart stopped racing. Miles quickly scanned the area, then motioned for them to retreat behind a moss-covered boulder. A small stream trickled nearby, rolling across a small groove. Their client collapsed on his good side with barely enough strength to keep his head from impacting rock. Claire went to unload her bag but flinched as she did so.
Miles' eyes narrowed as he saw three parallel gashes through her fur. Not deep enough for major concern, but deep enough to piss him off. "I'll tend to him."
"I'm fi—"
"I will do it." The braixen went silent, knowing better than to argue with him once he'd set his mind to something. Miles rummaged through the bag before taking a better look at the wound. It truly was a wonder how the zebstrika had survived. Burnt flesh mingled with gnawed muscle tissue, quads and hamstrings affected alike. Whoever had bitten him had intended on eating then and there. Something like this was bound to affect the way he'd walk from this point onward, and there could even be a chance that he wouldn't get to keep the leg. Miles had learned to keep thoughts of that nature to himself. He crushed up a few heal seeds and mixed it with oran – a simple disinfectant, but an effective one until better treatment was available.
"You two… is my mate alright? And my son?"
"They're the ones who posted the mission," Claire replied. She gave a wide, heartfelt smile. "And I know seeing you come back will mean the world to them."
"Oh thank Arceus." He lowered his head to the ground again, not even flinching as his leg was being bandaged. The zebstrika's eyes fell to the stream. Miles was nearly halfway done when he made a slight, weak movement.
"Don't." He froze, then nodded. Claire put two and two together.
"You probably haven't had anything to eat or drink in the past few days, have you?" The zebstrika shook his head. "Ugh, poor thing. I can't even imagine what all that must've been like." She went through the other bag as Miles worked, withdrawing the small metal pot they used for cooking. She dipped it into the water and brought it to him. It didn't take him long to submerge his muzzle and drink hastily. Eventually he withdrew, sputtering for air.
"I've never been so terrified. I wasn't sure…" He paused, closing his eyes. "I didn't know if my diversion had worked or not. Even when we all got turned to stone… at least I had them in my sight." And while he didn't say anything, Miles knew that fear better than most.
"Here, let's get you something to eat." She kept rummaging through their back until she found their rations. "We've got dried fish… but I guess you're not too interested in that. Does slightly-stale bread and berries sound good?"
"A rock sounds good right about now." Claire snickered before setting it out for him. "Are you sure—"
"Yes," Miles interjected. Wasn't like they couldn't forage on their way to Serene Village. They'd done so as kids, they could do it again. Plus, they weren't the ones who'd been chased by a spiteful pack of houndooms for two days…
As the zebstrika ate, Miles finished bandaging as best he could. Wasn't perfect, but it would hold until proper care could be administered. He walked behind Claire while she was in conversation and began to survey the damage. She looked over her shoulder and shook her head. "I'm good, Miles."
"You are still bleeding." He ignored her protests and began following a similar process. Admittedly, he was gentler.
"How long have you two been in the rescue business?" he asked between heavy bites. Berries stained his muzzle as he ate without any trace of civility.
"I mean… we aren't technically a rescue team, but we've had our fair share of 'em over the years, right Miles?" The typhlosion nodded.
"Really? Then what do you do?"
"That's a great question right about now," Claire said with a laugh.
"Pardon?"
"Well, with the Expedition Society finishing the map and all… I'm not sure what our organization's next step is. Right now we're all sorta freelancing."
"You're with the Expedition Society?" the zebstrika asked.
"Yep!"
"…Wait… you're…" The zebstrika froze, realizing just who had rescued him. "W-well… that explains how you took on a whole pack…"
"Not the whole pack," Miles said. "And it helped that they were stupid. Cut each other's throats the first chance they got." They'd found a weakness – a chance to advance their own standing within the pack – and just like that, they'd turned on one another. Such was living amongst the wild; all that mattered was one's own interests.
Claire flinched as his hand brushed across the middle gash. "Sorry," he mumbled. It was the deepest, scraping into muscle. Nothing that wouldn't heal, but there would undoubtedly be a mark. Once he finished, Miles decided that they had stayed there long enough. While Claire didn't think it likely that they'd be attacked again, he wanted to be on the safe side. He quickly wrapped his forearm before they started off once again.
Their pace was slow, mostly due to the zebstrika's wounded leg. A hiss occasionally sounded as he stepped at just the wrong angle. "Too tight?" Miles asked without turning around.
"N-no. Damn thing still stings." He paused, failing to withhold a trace of fear in his voice. "I've heard their flames will always burn…"
"Urban myth. Poison'll work its way out in a few months."
"…Months?"
The glow from their emeras dimmed as they drew close to the exit, shattering into a glowing mist which just as quickly faded away. Miles remembered their exit as a quick blur; their client gained a newfound strength as his mate and child ran towards him, impacting with no regard to his injury despite the red blotch on his bandage proving otherwise. But the typhlosion smiled. They had done good today, even if it was their job to do so.
Claire filled the officer in on the details of their rescue while Miles stood by. He sighed, eyes diverting away and towards his forearm. Blood had matted his hair, coating his sand looplet, and now that they were out of harm's way for good, he took a moment to patch himself up. The two zebstrikas' voices reduced to whispers after emotions ran their course. Miles cocked his head as the female shot him a quick look, then continued conversing with her mate. Something definitely wasn't right.
He glanced towards Claire – who usually did all the talking – but she was still in conversation with the magneton. Looks like I'm on my own here, he thought as they approached him. Miles' ears stood upward as he managed to put on an awkward smile. "Something wrong?"
"…Kind of," the male admitted. "We were… discussing the matter of your payment." Miles said nothing. If there was a discussion to be had on that topic, then the likely scenario was that she had offered a reward that didn't exist.
"I presume you don't have it," Miles answered.
"Yes," the female interrupted, much to the dismay of her mate, "we do. They can be replaced, dear. You cannot." Miles shot them a questioning look. The female's eyes fell to a slim golden band around her left ankle. He'd noticed the same thing on their client.
"Your looplets?" he asked.
"No," the male said quietly. "Not looplets. Our promise bands." The typhlosion's brow furrowed.
"…Huh?"
"It's a tradition – one that they say was brought by humans. You would know something about that, right?" That word almost stung his ears. True, with Radiant's exploits being well-recorded, many people knew of the typhlosion's secret. What they didn't expect, though, was that they knew more about that matter than him.
"No…" He shook his head, then continued. "But it sounds like those are of great sentimental value. Why would you use that as collateral for the payment?"
"Because these are pretty much all we have for the next two weeks," she replied. "We take shipments to the coast – that's where we get paid. And… a higher amount brought you here, didn't it? I couldn't afford to wait. What would've happened had I offered only the three hundred we have on us? Some low-tier rescue team would've showed up. That would've done nothing but feed those monsters more." Miles could certainly agree to that much; numbers such as what they had just faced were a threat to even him and Claire – even after seven years of adventuring. A rookie team would have been butchered. "It is not for debate, dear. I'd rather have you than your promise band." The female went to slip her mate's band off on account, preparing to do the same after that. Miles hook his head.
"…No. Keep them. Seems important."
"I… I don't…" The male stammered. Tears welled up in their eyes.
"If you give them to me, I'm free to do with them as I please. That includes giving them back. So don't bother." He glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Claire was probably about to wrap things up with the officer. Or at least, he thought. She could talk for hours if she wanted.
"…A-are you sure?" She felt guilty. Obviously he'd feel bad for taking such a payment, but it was clear that the female blamed herself for putting Miles in a situation where he even had to make such a choice in the first place.
"Yes. Our finances are very comfortable." Perhaps it was a blunt answer, but it was true all the same. "Keep the bracelets. We are fine. Just avoid this place from now on."
"…Thank you, Miles." He nodded, then turned away from them. Radiant's job was done here. Truth be told, to have come all this way and to have endured such a fight without taking home anything in return was less than ideal. But they'd done far worse for free before.
Fortunately, Claire seemed about ready to wrap things up. As expected, numerous officers would soon swarm this mystery dungeon and put an end to the houndooms' terror, most likely their lives in the process. Nothing of value will be lost. She glanced over at him with a 'get me out of here' look; apparently, she wasn't so engaged in conversation as he had initially thought.
"Think it's about time we head out," he said, offering her an escape. "We need to hit the road."
"I fully agree," Claire quickly replied. "It's been really nice talking to you, sir, but we've got places to be and all that." Whether or not the magneton caught wind of her readiness to leave conversation, he didn't show it.
"Very well. We will take it from here. Your services are greatly appreciated." They smiled, nodded, and turned around. If Miles never saw these caves again, it wouldn't be too soon.
Once they were a decent distance away, Claire released a sigh of relief. "Thanks for rescuing me there."
"Hmm?"
She rolled her eyes. "Only so much I can take of that monotone voice. It was one question after another. He just talked on and on…"
"And you don't?" Miles asked.
"Hey! At least I'm fun to listen to…" The typhlosion shot her a glance as if contemplating whether or not that was accurate – much to her annoyance. "Uh, something you wanna say?" Claire folded her arms, expecting a response.
"You definitely do enough talking for the two of us."
"Oh? And you think I should fix that?" she asked. There was more than a hint of building agitation.
"No. Never said that at all." He looked over his shoulder. "Never change."
A/N: Special thanks to FuryWrites for beta-reading this chapter.
