Warning: Violence. Wait. Do I even need to mention that? I don't know, here it is. Still don't own pokemon.
A group of five men sat around a fire, boasting about their amazing haul, if not their most rewarding ever. Their captive slammed against the steel cage, rattling one of the trucks next to them, growling and slashing at the steel bars with its horn. The poacher sitting immediately in front of the cage flicked one of the bars with the butt his rifle, earning the most hateful look he'd ever seen from a pokemon. Then again, they all gave the same look, so technically, it wasn't the worst he'd ever seen. Still didn't make it any less satisfying. Honestly, it never got old.
"Look at 'im. Trying to be all scary and intimidating. Hah, growl all you fucking want, you're not going anywhere! We sure lucked out with him, didn't we?" Ross grinned fiendishly, sneering at the creature.
"Sure did. I mean, we just came here for some horns and gems but to get a shiny Absol? Dammmmmnnnn. About time we run into something worthwhile. How much you think we're going to get for him?" Dan asked Mic, smirking.
Their boss scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Glad you asked. Let's see… Endangered, shiny, and in prime condition?" He chuckled and rubbed his hands together, picturing the beautiful stacks of money. "If we sell him off in Kalos, we'll get three million at the least. Apparently some weird stones have been found over there, and because of that, demand for Absol in that region has skyrocketed. I'm talking holy shit proportions. You know those Kalosian people, all fancy and fat with money. They'll pay shit tons for him and we'll walk away filthy rich."
"Three mil?" Kenton gawked incredulously, jaw nearly unhinging upon hearing that amount. No job had ever paid that much, and he'd done a lot of jobs. Some of those with more risk than this.
Mic gave him a toothy grin. "It gets better. We haven't even started talking about the Absol eggs either. One of those will fetch a nice two hundred thousand each over there."
Everyone cheered. They had about twelve Absol eggs, which meant another two mil plus. Today was glorious.
"I'm going on a long vacation after payday," Kenton said gleefully. With the amount of money they were going to make from this trip, he'd probably have enough to retire. "Say, where's Clyde and Bishop?"
Richard pointed up ahead of them, into the darkness. "They're on watch duty up ahead. Wouldn't want a Salamence to come up and roast our asses now. I heard there are a few around here, and that they are vicious as all shit." No one caught Salamence, too crazy. Not even those fancy-shmancy pokeballs were of any use, since the dragons tore apart anyone after being captured. If anything, they got even moreaggressive after being caught. Something to do with a dragon's pride, blah blah.
Point was, don't catch a grown Salamence unless your balls are made of diamond or you're looking for a death sentence.
"Shit's true," Dan assured, polishing his rifle for the twenty-fifth damned time.
Kenton shot him a suspicious look. "And how do you know that?"
"You know I had a group before right?"
"Yeah, you never shut up about it." The only thing Dan ever talked about more than his gun was his old group. That got old real fast.
"Well, they came here. Never came back." He pointed towards the sky, letting Kenton figure it out for himself. That is, if he could use that brain of his. He sucked complete shit at plans, preferring shoot-everything-that-moves. Damn Leeroy Jenkins.
"Oh, shit. Really?"
"Nothing left but ashes, hyper beam for sure. Had to be a Flygon, Altaria, or Salamence. But I'm pretty sure it was a Salamence, the other two aren't aggressive unless you attack 'em. Glad I decided to drop the job, else I'd be as fucked as they are right now." He chuckled, kissing his rifle. Good ol' gut feeling never once led him astray.
The other poacher watched him kiss his rifle and shook his head. "You love that thing don't you?" Kenton was surprised that Dan hadn't had sex with it yet. The guy was a damn gun nut.
"Shit, don't you love yours?" Eight pounds of death dealing aluminum and steel, capable of killing medium sized pokemon with a few well placed shots, people even fewer, what wasn't there to like? It wasn't like they had other pokemon to do the hunting for them. Or superpowers or something crazy like that. And guns were manly. Very manly.
"Well, yeah. But I don't make out with it all the time. It came in handy against those Absol though, that's for sure. I thought we weren't going to take 'em all."
Mic nodded. "Biggest group I've ever seen. Too bad they were all feral. Could have caught some of them. Such a shame. But oh well, we got the juiciest part of the deal anyway. Not to mention we don't have to give a cut to David and Luis, since the Absol absolutely shredded them, hehe." He took a glance at the sky and his cackle died down, seeing dark clouds forming. "Sky doesn't look too good." The sky was clear earlier in the day, perfectly fine weather. What was with the sudden change?
The other four turned their attention to the sky as well. Black clouds loomed over them, blocking out the light of the moon, looking very ominous. They seemed to be moving a little too fast.
"Is it supposed to rain today?" Ross wrinkled his nose, trying to make out the faint outlines of the clouds being illuminated by the moon.
"Not a drop," Richard answered, noting the shape and darkness of the clouds. "Those are rain clouds. No doubt about it. I've been out enough to know them when I see them."
"Why is it going to rain if it wasn't supposed to?"
"Kenton, you're a dumbass. What're we, Kyogre? How the fuck are we supposed to know that?" Dan shook his head, irritated. Kenton had the intelligence of a Bellsprout. Virtually nonexistent.
"You wanna state your problem with me, asshole? I've been taking passive-aggressive shit from you all trip," Kenton responded, standing up. "I'll break your fucking nose and we'll see just how good of a shit talker you are after that."
"Calm down, you're acting like eight year olds. You're grown ass men. 'Sides, you know how wrong the weather prediction is all the time. They say it's going to be sunny and the next thing you know, you're buried in six feet of snow," Mic said. "If it starts raining, we'll just get into the trucks. The Absol will be fine, just keep the eggs inside. Now shut up and sit down."
Clyde and Bishop were standing in the dark, keeping watch. Forina had lots of scary stuff that could easily kill people, like Shiftry, for instance. Those razor winds could slice people in half, Bishop had seen it happen before. That Fortree job was a proper disaster.
"Why are we on guard duty again?" Clyde asked, rubbing his eyes after he saw a red glow in the darkness. It was gone the next second but hell, if that wasn't a sign that the dark was getting to him, he didn't know what was. It was probably just his mind playing tricks or something.
"Because we were the first two to lose in the group wager?" Bishop reminded. He didn't like the position either, since it was boring as shit most of the time. Nothing ever happened. Sometimes, he wished something interesting would go down. Being a guard was like being bait, you stand around and wait for things to come and find you. And when they do, you blow them to shit. Easy. But mind-numbingly boring.
"Oh… right." Clyde chuckled sheepishly. "Makes you nervous though, right?"
Bishop looked over to where Clyde's voice came from, shining his flashlight on the younger man's face. His pupils shrunk and he covered his face with his arm. "What makes me nervous?"
"Cut that light out, it's gonna make me go blind. Shit man."
Bishop moved the light away from Clyde's face and back to what lay in front of him, which was nothing, of course. Like always.
"I meant the atmosphere, you know?"
"You mean the part of sitting out here, not being able to see two feet in front of your face, vulnerable, and on top of that, being way too quiet? While added onto the fact that anything could be lurking in those woods, ready to maul us?" If he meant that, then yes, it did make him nervous.
"Yeah…that."
Bishop could almost feel the guy tensing up. Bah, the kid would get over it."Don't worry about it, you'll get used to it. You start to feel a lot less paranoid when you've done this multiple times."
"Y-you're absolutely right. Nothing to worry about at all…" Clyde breathed in deeply, feeling like the forest itself was watching him. He grasped his rifle harder, and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. "H-hey, about that Absol group back there- it was huge! Sucks what happened to David and Luis though. Less shares right?"
Bishop chuckled to himself. "Damn right. And yeah, that group was enormous, especially for rare pokemon like Absol. Got a lot of good horns and forehead gems to sell on the black market though. With that shiny and the eggs? Hoooo, just thinking about the cash is giving me the shivers."
"What're you going to do with the money? Send some to the folks?" Clyde didn't really know anyone very much, since all everyone cared about was the job. All he knew of the others were their names and their attitudes, which didn't bother him actually. Some of them were zubat-shit axe wielding crazy. Like that psycho Kenton or that guy, Dan. Bishop was tame compared to them.
"Nah, no family. No time for kids and my old man kicked me out for getting into too many fights at school when I was a teenager. Like hell I'd send him cash. As for what I'm going to do with it, maybe I'll go spend it all on a cruise or something."
"Vacation? Sounds good."
"Or maybe I'll spend it on some girls in Goldenrod," Bishop said lustfully.
Clyde scoffed. "Such a horndoom, you always thinking with your dick?"
"Not always. And shit, what do you care? I spend months out here with a bunch of dudes. I need to get some once in a while."
Clyde rolled his eyes, "I guess. I gotta take a piss. Don't go anywhere, this forest creeps me the hell out."
"Whatever, just hurry up."
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Bishop was getting tired of standing up, feet starting to ache rather considerably. Clyde had gone to take a piss a considerable while ago. Pisses didn't take five minutes. The kid hadn't come back yet and he kept seeing this red glow in the dark that kept appearing and disappearing in different places. It was very odd and he was starting to get a little unsettled.
"The hell did he drink, a sea?" Bishop went over to where Clyde's lookout spot was, shining a flashlight on the ground. There were some foot prints leading into the forest. "Goddamn kid. Does nothing but run off. If I find him messing around, I'm gonna introduce him to my fist."
He kept following the foot prints, leading to some thick brush. Shining his flashlight on the dirt, he noticed the soil was stained darker than usual. Seems like this is the place where he did his business... Now where did he go? He looked behind the bushes, seeing as how they looked roughly disturbed.
It was then that he saw Clyde. The kid was on the ground, reclined against a tree stump, rifle in his lap, covered in blood. The blood was all over his jacket, pants, and floor. Bishop knelt down beside him, panicking. "Clyde! What the fuck! How did you- whose blood is this?"
It was no use, the kid's eyes were unresponsive and nothing coherent came from him, only gurgling and choking noises. Bishop moved his neck, jumping back as blood seeped out of it. That's why Clyde couldn't speak, his throat had been slashed open. The kid lay there, slowly choking on his own blood; it even leaked out of his mouth and ran down his cheek. On his forehead the word "one" was written, completely in crimson fluid.
Bishop heard rapidly approaching foot-falls and shot to his feet, frantically spinning around, shining light unto the surrounding forest. Nothing but darkness and trees in all directions, with not even a single pokemon in sight. He held onto his rifle as hard as he could, breath picking up, heart pumping faster. The forest was completely silent and plunged in total darkness, save for the dying sounds of the young Clyde.
"Where the fuck are you?" Bishop demanded, beads of sweat running down his face. His heart hammered in his chest and his legs felt like they were made of paper. Paranoia crept in, expecting anything to come out of the bushes and viciously murder him. He nearly had a heart attack when he walked backward into a tree, before sighing in relief. "Oh, fuck me. It's just a tree. Just a tree…"
Just as he was about to go warn the others, something grabbed his left shoulder with an infernally strong grip, and he saw only one glowing red eye stare back at him. Bishop couldn't move, couldn't speak, he couldn't even scream.
"Two."
Dan stared out at the darkness ahead, concerned. "Yo, Mic. Shouldn't Clyde and Bishop be back yet?"
"Yeah… they should. That's weird. Bishop always comes back on time, don't know about the new kid. Hey, someone go check it-" Mic abruptly cut himself off as he caught a glimpse of a figure slowly coming into view from the darkness, dragging something along with it; it was hard to tell what it was but it looked hunched over and white.
Kenton stood up, squinting. "What the fuck is that?"
The figure stopped, faint outline barely visible before stepping back into the darkness. All five men around the fire picked up their rifles, and slowly walked away from the fire to investigate. The figure's abrupt appearance act was downright creepy, and left every hair on the back of their necks standing straight up.
As they neared the edge of the fire's light, they spotted what the figure had dragged out. It was Clyde and Bishop, throats sliced open, completely drenched in blood. A look of utter terror was etched into Bishop's face, like he had seen something he shouldn't have before it killed him. What a gruesome sight.
Richard jumped back. "Oh, fuck! That's…"
"Holy shit," Kenton muttered in disbelief.
"Keep it together," Mic cautioned, holding them back. "If you freak out right now, you won't be able to hit a damn thing if it decides to attack us."
Ross gulped. "What was that thing? Was it a Zangoose?" The slash wounds seemed very similar to those caused by Zangoose claws. Whatever made those lacerations was really sharp.
"I have no idea what the fuck it was, but if it was, it was tall for its species. I don't care if it's the biggest Zangoose I've ever laid my eyes on, we're going to murder it if it gets close," Mic said, eyeing the surrounding forest for the figure. "Bishop was a good man, been on my team for years."
"Hell with this." Kenton loaded his gun and aimed it into the darkness, attempting to scare whatever it was away. If it was a pokemon, it would probably have run off by now, but in case it wasn't... "Come on out, you little skulking bitch! I'm not afraid of you! In case you didn't notice, we got guns. Your big, sharp claws won't count for shit!" He taunted, cackling.
Ross spoke up, a little more than rattled after looking at the corpses' mutilated throats once more. "Kenton, don't antagonize it, you want it to come after us?"
Kenton whipped around, pointing his gun at Ross. "Shut the fuck up! Man up and we'll get together, find it, and kill it." He turned back around and held his hands up in another mocking fashion, spitting out insult after insult with that foul mouth of his. Nothing came out, and the forest remained dreadfully silent. Kenton scanned the part of the forest he could see, figuring that it was gone. "See? Must've scared it off."
Dan's gut was telling him to run, run as far away as possible because shit was about to hit the fan. "I don't think it's gone. Stop fucking taunting it, dumbass."
Kenton laughed. "Oh, please. It probably ran away with its tail in between its legs, like that Absol that got awa-" A whistling sound was heard through the air, and the next second, Kenton had an arrow through his neck.
He fell on his knees, desperately trying to breathe, struggling for air. He fell onto the floor, a look of utter panic in his eyes. He held his hands out, trying to get someone to help him. But it was no use, no one there had any medical expertise, and he had an arrow stuck in his throat with no way of getting it out. He kept flailing on the ground, like a Magikarp out of water, begging for air when another arrow sang through the air and found its mark in Richard's calf.
"Fuck!" He cursed, dropping to the floor like a shot Taillow. The men fired a volley of shots in the direction where the arrow originated.
"Shit! You alright?" Dan asked.
"I have a fucking arrow in my leg! Do I look ALL-FUCKING-RIGHT?!" He tried standing up, only to fall again after feeling the pain. "I-I can't walk." He snapped the shaft and tried pulling out the arrow, but groaned in agony instead.
Ross was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. His rifle felt like it weighed hundreds of pounds. He wanted to run but his legs didn't budge. "Fuck, we're gonna die, we're gonna die…" He repeated, hoping his death was quick.
Mic turned to Ross and smacked him as hard as possible. "Get a hold of yourself, you little scared piece of shit. You think we're not scared? Least we know it's not a pokemon now. They don't use arrows. Let's get back to the trucks and get our gear then-"
Suddenly, more clouds formed overhead, and let loose a downpour of rain. The fire burning behind them was put out swiftly, leaving them in the middle of pitch black darkness and pouring rain, making it difficult to distinguish footsteps, let alone see anything.
"I can't see shit," Richard cursed, still clutching his injured leg. "Why did it have to start raining now?"
Dan swallowed, grimacing in the dark. "That's no natural rain." The clouds formed too fast and the rain was coming down too hard for it to be natural.
"Rain dance," Mic said grimly. "A pokemon's doing this." Clever stalker.
"Yeah."
"R-rain dance what? W-what does that mean?" Ross stuttered.
"It means whoever that was, has a pokemon that knows rain dance. Or this is just one big fucking coincidence. But I doubt it, since it conveniently took out our lights and impaired our hearing. Shit, this ain't good. We gotta stick together and find our way back to the trucks. They're behind us, so let's turn around and start walking," Mic explained, feeling around, finally catching Dan's arm. Besides, I don't think it can see in the dark either. Can it?
"W-what about Kenton then?"
"Nothing we can do." Everyone knew it was true. The guy had an arrow through his neck, there was no way he was making it. His noises had stopped a few moments ago too. "I'll get Richard, stay close."
Dan grabbed Richard's hand, dragging him through the muddy soil as the four slowly walked back in the opposite direction, pelted by the pouring rain. He cursed as the arrow caused him more pain, each bump jarring his leg.
A spine-chilling cackle came from behind them. They instantly turned around, unloading several shots into the darkness, the muzzle flashes briefly illuminating the surrounding area for a few seconds. They just finished reloading when the same deranged laughter came to their left, then right, and in several directions afterward.
"S-stop playing games! Face us!" Mic bellowed, voice piercing through the shrouded veil of darkness. No response, only the steady drumming of rain overhead. He swallowed nervously, starting to feel the anxiety.
"What the fuck man…" Ross whimpered. "This is fucking psychological warfare. W-where are the trucks, man?"
They had blindly followed the voice's noise, being whipped around in different directions, losing the direction in which the trucks were. What were they going to do now? They didn't have any flashlights with them and it was damn near impossible to see.
"Fucker confused us," Mic said under his breath. Ross' breathing was heavy, the guy was stressing out. Richard remained on the floor, grunting and groaning. Dan was silent. "S-stay alert. Don't let your guard down. We keep moving forward… wherever that is."
Dan spoke up, voice only slightly wavering, "come on, we gotta get Richard to-" Pain erupted along his arm as something sharp slashed across his forearm, cutting deeply into his flesh. "Motherf-" He turned around and fired several shots in the direction of the attack, bullets blasting into trees further ahead, striking nothing remotely pokemon or man. Everyone else followed suit and unloaded in the general direction.
Ross was about to put another clip into his gun when he was reeled back by the collar of his shirt and onto the muddy floor.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Gotta get up, gotta get away. Please, god help me! He shrieked as he felt the coldness of metal against his neck, threatening to slice it open should he struggle.
A soft, menacing voice whispered in his ear, "Shhhh, don't worry."
He screamed louder.
"Ross!" Mic shouted. Ross' voice was getting further away, being dragged through the mud. He fumbled for another magazine, dropping it onto the ground.
Ross' screams grew fainter but were still clearly audible. He had been dragged deeper into the forest, pleading to be spared, seeking to see his mother. His cries appeared to echo throughout the dark. Begging. Pleading. Hoping.
Desperate screams all but stopped.
The sounds of rain continued on, erasing the fact that a man's dying pleas had been silenced. It was as if the darkness itself had swallowed him.
Mic, Richard, and Dan were rendered immobile. They stopped breathing for a few seconds, acknowledging what was happening.
They were being hunted down. Played with, toyed with. Like a horror movie, where the killer silently picked off people one by one, moving through the shadows, appearing and disappearing at any moment's notice.
Richard broke. He started to yell and curse, dragging himself forward through the mud, crying out in horror. It was supposed to be a simple job, with no danger. He didn't want to die, he didn't…
"Richard! Don't!" Dan cautioned.
The desperate poacher continued dragging himself along the muddy ground when something grabbed onto the arrow shaft sticking out of his leg, and brutally twisted it, tearing through more tissues inside. He screamed in agony. Tears leaked out of his eyes, and he looked up, seeing only a single red eye above him as rain pelted his face. Watching. "MONSTER! AAAUUGH! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! AAAAAHHHHH!"
Mic and Dan pointed their rifles in Richard's general direction. All they could do was shoot wildly, since aiming was useless when you couldn't even see the gun's sights.
"No, guys! Wait, plea-" A hail of bullets shot forth into the dark, several of them making contact with Richard's body. He barely survived, breathing his last rugged breaths, violently coughing up blood.
"Did we get him?" Dan asked, feeling guilty over shooting his teammate.
"I don't know…" Mic replied grimly. "You got a spare?"
Dan remained silent. Grave news. They were out, not having enough time to grab spares from their gear.
Richard's pained gasps were heard, just barely louder than the rain. "G-get him, k-kill the bastard. Avenge me." This was as far as he went. Those bullets were hollow points, specifically designed to fragment inside the body, causing as much internal damage as possible. Even if there was a medical team there, he wouldn't survive anyway.
Suddenly, the sound of metal being sharpened was heard farther away, followed by deliberately heavy squelches of a foot being slammed into the ground. The metallic zing slowly got closer and closer.
Mic and Dan could only listen in horror as the metallic sound of a blade being sharpened grew near. It became louder and more pronounced, completely evaporating any shred of courage they had left, only to replace it with despair.
"Five."
The metallic sound ceased and the sound of Richard shrieking in pain filled the air. Then his wails became gargled noises, followed by silence shortly after.
Richard's gone too. Ross, Kenton, Clyde, Bishop.
"THEY'RE ALL FUCKING DEAD!"
Dan charged, terrified and frantic. His mind was beyond rational thought, on autopilot, driven by pure instinct to get rid of a threat, no matter how futile the effort may be. He was stopped as a knife plunged into his right quadricep and a hand caught him by the throat, pushing him into a tree. An evil red eye bore into his own, like seeing the devil himself stare back at you.
"Six."
A knife slashed in the dark.
Mic stared wide-eyed into the darkness, frozen in fear. Alone. No ammunition. No light. Nothing left to protect himself. He was completely helpless, at the deranged mercy of a demented killer.
He started to run as fast as he could, fumbling and crashing into trees and bushes. With every collision, his paranoia soared, seeing red eyes in every direction imaginable. His eyes could not help him, with his mind fabricating hallucinations of the red eyed demon.
It was everywhere, all around him.
"Help me! God! Please! ANYONE!"
Something grabbed him by the leg and he fell flat on his face, erupting in eardrum shattering shrieks. He was dragged face first along the floor, getting mud and dirt inside his mouth, until he was thrown into something metallic hard enough to leave a dent.
Mic's eyes fluttered open. The rain had stopped and there was a lantern light on the floor, giving him some light. He tried to stand up when he noticed a figure garbed in a white fur coat, face obscured by a hood of sorts. The fur coat was stained with blood, his crews' blood.
His breath hitched and a familiar chill came down his spine. He was staring directly, at the thing. It looked human, but it wasn't. It couldn't be. Whatever killed the guys couldn't be human. It had to be a demon, something supernatural, not of this world. He tried to muster up the strength in his trembling legs to run.
"Don't run. You won't get far." The figure sat down across from him, the white of his coat being the only thing that allowed Mic to make him out in the dim light.
"P-please don't kill me!"
"If you do anything stupid, I will."
"W-why the hell are you doing this?"
"Because of this," he said, taking out a blue sickle-shaped horn. He stood up and grabbed Mic's face, placing the edged point at his cheek. "You know what this is, don't you?"
"W-what?"
He slashed Mic's cheek with the horn, giving him a small cut. Not deep at all, but it would be enough to get the effect he desired.
"AAHH!"
There it was.
"Tell me what this is. If you do not answer me, I promise the next cut will not be so small." This time, the horn came within centimeters of the poacher's eye.
"I-it's an Absol horn! God, get it away!" His lips quavered. "Why? Why did you take out my men? WHY!"
The weapon lowered, and a relieved sigh escaped the terrified poacher.
"You killed the Absols. Innocent pokemon who tried their best to stay away from humans. Fathers, mothers, pups. It made no difference to you. You and your team slaughtered them for nothing but your own selfish desires. Nearly extinct and you did nothing but laugh and boast. Not even a shred of guilt."
"It wasn't personal! It was just a job! You've gotta understand!"
The figure's red eye flashed underneath the darkness that shrouded its face, exuding malevolence and cold fury. "Oh, I understand. Thing is, to someone, somewhere, it will always be personal."
He raised the horn, point first.
"Enjoy your three mil."
"NO! WAIT!"
And buried the horn into the poacher's heart, inch by inch, watching intently as the body slumped to the floor.
Riven stood still for a full minute, with a thousand-yard stare hinting that he wasn't all quite there at the moment. He broke out of it shortly after and turned around to face a muzzled and captive Sarim.
"Let's get you out of there," Riven said, face completely blank, as if nothing happened.
Getting rid of the lock on the cage was fairly easy. It shattered with a good strike from a large rock after Sarim froze it with an ice beam.
The Absol eagerly leapt out of the cage, no doubt dying to ask how his mate was doing. Last he knew was that she left to go find Riven and Haona. Judging by what the human had just done, she had.
"If you're worried about Iara, she's back at the cave. Go see her. She was injured badly, and I don't know how she is at the moment. Tell the others the issue has been resolved and stay there until I arrive," he ordered, picking up the crate of Absol eggs. "I'll take these back and catch up with you later. When you get there, make sure Haona is safe as well."
Riven flicked his eyes in the direction of the cave. Go.
The dark type nodded and took off.
Riven arrived at the grotto some time later, placing the eggs near the hearth. His pokemon lay sleeping near Iara, still on the rock where he placed her, which looked less like rock and more like bloody slab. The knife wounds that once bled profusely were replaced by burn scars, meaning that Aine had succeeded. Sarim stood by her, speaking softly to her sleeping form.
Sarim noticed the black-haired human and turned to face him. "I talked to Haona already."
"How's she taking this?" Riven asked, removing his blood stained coat and washing off some of the blood in the small stream in the center of the cave. The rain had helped, but not nearly enough.
"She's still shaken but… responsive at least. She just needs time," he replied, watching her breaths rise and fall as she slept on Baron's lap.
Riven gave a curt nod. "Iara?"
Sarim's eyes filled with sorrow. "She's fine, physically. But Korek's murder- she's devastated." He closed his eyes, holding back tears.
"Physical pain is brief. Psychological pain stays with you forever, no matter how hard you try to forget," Riven said with slight sadness, still washing his coat. "You try and try but the memories are still there, waiting in your dreams. And there isn't a damn thing you can do about it but carry it around with you. It's a... terrible feeling."He glanced at Sarim, who seemed to get worse with every passing second. "And you? How do you feel?"
"How am I supposed to feel?" Sarim asked pathetically, having lost the entire group, save his mate and dozens of eggs. He sat miserably down on the ground, head low, wallowing in guilt and sorrow.
It was a painful sight, to see a once proud Absol in such a state. He was a failure, a pitiful excuse for a leader. He had protected no one and in the end, he was the one to survive. He wasn't worthy, he should have died. If only he had foreseen…
Sarim was brought out of his thoughts when a berry hit him on the head. He snapped his head up to see a bored human sitting across from him, munching on his own berry.
"What?" Sarim questioned. "What is this?"
"Pecha berry," the human said flatly. "They're only found just about everywhere."
The Absol looked it over like it was poison. "But why are you giving it to me?"
"The sugar helps with the shock. Looks like you need it." He huffed in exasperation, and steeled his voice. "You need to quit blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault. It's foolish and achieves nothing," he replied callously.
"But it was my fault! I failed to-"
"Stop."
The Absol complied reluctantly, catching the icy glare Riven that compelled him to sit and listen.
"It being your fault isn't true and you know it, you just don't want to accept it. What could you have done? You are only one Absol. They had guns and a team. There wasn't much you could have done if they caught you by surprise. Which they did." His hand slashed through the air. "I saw the aftermath, don't tell me they didn't. Even if you did kill all of the poachers, some- if not most- of your group would have died regardless, and you'd blame yourself anyway. You were going to lose someone, it was inevitable. But you survived. And so did the eggs. That's what matters now."
Anger welled up inside of Sarim. "You want me to forget?! IS that it? Just forget that they got slaughtered and move on like they weren't important? Like it's that easy? You're just like them. Heartless and selfish in the end," he snarled, flashing sharp teeth.
"Forget? No. Think of me what you will, but don't you ever forget about what happened here today," Riven hissed coldly.
"Then what are you trying to tell me!" A large green blade extended from his horn. Riven didn't even move a muscle. Not even a wince as the blade stopped centimeters of his throat, ready to behead him at any moment.
"I'm telling you to use that supposed 'failure'," Riven continued, unfazed. "Turn it into your strength, so that you fight harder to protect those you care about. Use it as the fuel that drives you. To make sure that what happened here never happens to anyone else again, and if it does, you will vow to personally tear whoever is responsible to pieces."
Sarim froze. And thought. He flinched, feeling a hand on his head. His mega horn dissipated as rage slowly slipped away.
Riven ruffled the shiny's fur, just like he did to Haona at times, when she was being illogical. It always seemed to calm her down. "Just don't give up. Keep fighting, no matter how many times life decides to beat you into submission. You stand back up and laugh in its face, even if you're broken and battered inside, because as long as you live, you honor their memory. Remember that." He took his hand off the Absol's head, turning his gaze elsewhere. "You should rest, if you can. It'll do you some good."
"Why did you do it? Why didn't you just walk away?" Sarim knew it wasn't the human's problem, he could have easily left. It's not like he even liked the Absols either, he was fairly indifferent to them, so we did he do it?
"Because it reminded me of home," Riven replied simply, and walked out of the cave with clenched fists.
Riven stood in front of a large tree, hammering away at the trunk with his fists, each blow splitting and cutting his knuckles further. Blood ran down his hands and forearms.
Smash. Crack.
Smash. Crack.
"That isn't good for you, trainer. You're going to need those."
About to slam another fist into the tree's bark, Riven stopped and noticed the gray cloud floating behind him. He turned to face his newest team member. "Boagrius?" His awareness must have been completely shot if his Castform was able to sneak up on him like that.
Boagrius closed his eyes in recognition.
Riven averted the Castform's line of sight awkwardly for a good thirty seconds. He was the only one of his pokemon that saw that… display. He didn't know how he would take seeing his trainer hunt down other humans and viciously killing them. He could handle others hating him for it, that was expected, but not his own team. "You, uh- saw everything, right? I mean, it was dark so I don-"
"Yes." The pokemon's voice was calm, not booming like its usual tone was. Even his eyes reflected a degree of seriousness that his trainer had not seen on the pokemon previously. "I saw what you did, and while it was extremely unsettling, even by human standards, I believe your actions were justified. The fact that it troubles you is a very good sign, not just for you, but for the rest of the team," the Castform stated truthfully, omitting nothing.
"Wait, what?" Stunned wasn't the word he'd use to describe it. He didn't expect anyone to agree with what he had done. Needless to say, the pokemon's response came out of the blue. "Shouldn't you be lecturing me right now? Or roaring at me? Maybe both?"
Boagrius eyed him curiously. "Why would I do that?"
His trainer shrugged. "I don't know. It's just… every time I do something, someone is there to lecture me or try and feed me their moral beliefs, even if the world is better without those bastards." he admitted. It was certainly beyond aggravating but he knew that times were different. People were different. Customs were different. A war wasn't going on and people weren't murdering each other, as much at least. He couldn't really blame them, just like he couldn't blame Steven; he was right, in a way.
The weather pokemon turned around, looking towards the entrance to the cave. "If I didn't know any better, I would, because murder and death is no small thing. But I am no young fool of a Castform. Out here, in the wild, things are different. There are no rules for us. We survive, and do what it takes. Death lurks everywhere here. Humans come here often, to hunt as they did. I have lived here all my life, and have seen what those poachers have done to others. I do not wish it on anyone. And what happened to those Absol, should never happen again. I am glad to have helped you, no matter how vicious your ways are. I've seen worse, from a dragon."
Riven blinked. He just compared me to a dragon. That's pretty awesome actually...
Boagrius just knew that Riven was thinking about being a dragon and cleared his voice loudly, breaking his trainer's train of thought. He continued on,"If there is anything I have learned here, it is that the price of true justice is always high. There are consequences for every action, more so for taking the darker path. Especially in front of others. To take upon the mantle of justice, we must deal with those consequences, no matter how severe."
The Castform turned to face him again. His tone was not arrogant or obnoxious, but wise and understanding, if a bit cautious.
"That is what most trained pokemon don't understand. What most humans don't understand. They are afraid to act, afraid to be hated, persecuted. However, hard decisions must be made, whether we want to make them or not. Such are the fates of trainers who use us for battle; they just don't realize it yet. But it's important that you never lose sight of who you are when you do. And you, have not."
Yet. There was always a risk. The brain was a fickle thing, easily influenced.
"However, you must be careful. Removing evil does not bring about good, and going too far could turn you into that which you despise. Tread carefully, trainer. Depravity is easy to fall into for the vengeful. Do not lose yourself, because you may not be able to return."
Both pokemon and man had lines, lines that couldn't be passed. No one was exempt.
Once you cross that line, there's no going back, Riven winced, recalling the old lessons from his training. The point of no return, the event horizon. He stared down at his hands, thinking over the Castform's words. "How do you know that I haven't already become what I despise? That I haven't already crossed the line?"
"Oh, you have already crossed many lines others do not dare touch in their entire lifetime. Most humans don't have the gall to shoot an arrow into a Swellow's head. And yes, I saw that happen, I observed you for a while before I approached you."
"That's not strange at all," Riven deadpanned. Then realized something, and threw a horrified look at the Castform. "Did you... watch me bathe too?"
"Yes, I had to observe you thoroughly before I chose to make you my trainer."
Riven twitched furiously.
"That was poorly worded."
"Very much so."
"AHEM! Back to the matter at hand... What I'm saying is that you walk on thin ice, trainer. As for how I know that you haven't fallen? It was the sincerity of your words to Sarim."
Mismatched eyes widened. "You heard?"
"Every word." The Castform smiled warmly. "It was an adequate speech. Did you write it down before hand? I could give you a few suggestions next time for a much more uplifting and compelling speech." Maybe a bit more emotion would have had a better effect. But for the love of Arceus, his trainer needed to do away with that dreaded monotone! He needed charisma and VIGOR!
Riven snorted. "Sorry if it wasn't magnificent enough for you. I'm not that good at it yet. Still got a ways to go before I can part seas with words like you. You're way too melodramatic. Can't you do simple for once?" He teased gently, lightening the mood.
The Castform recoiled, pretending to be hurt. Riven chuckled and sat down against a tree, staring up into the sky, feeling a light drizzle flow over his face. He sat in silence for a few minutes, Boagrius floating alongside him.
"Boagrius?"
"Yes?"
"How old are you?" He didn't exactly know how pokemon ages worked, so naturally, he was fairly clueless. "You sound like one of those wise old men right now. Not voice wise but, you know, you just have that wisdom-y vibe," he stated, unable to find a better term. Wisdom-y? His vocabulary was failing him. He blamed Brawly.
"Wisdom-y? HAHA! I am only nine as a matter of fact," Boagrius responded proudly. "And perhaps I overdid it a slight bit on the mysticism. I don't want to sound old."
"Nine?" Riven did a double take. "Wait, you were faking that seriousness?"
"Well, not exactly. I meant what I said. Buuuuuut…" The Castform beamed. "It was good, wasn't it? Very convincing, yes? I thought it would add extra tension to the situation at hand."
Riven frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. That bastard. It should have been no surprise though. What else could he expect from a Castform with a penchant for dramatization and flair? "I'm so glad you and Charles can't understand each other."
"Such a pity, I'm sure he is a wonderful fellow," Boagrius mused, spinning in place. "My unbelievable talents aside, I am nine. Which is about…thirty or so in your years." He waited intently for the reaction.
His trainer's jaw dropped."WHAT? But- you're so- how?" He remembered the picture of the Castform in the pokedex, and mentally compared it with his pokemon's. There was no difference. "My brain hurts."
"Ho ho ho. Careful, you don't want your jaw to fall off. That would make it hard to speak, trainer." Boagrius grinned. "By the way, I lied about the thirty part."
"Never would have guessed. Now, just let me pick up my jaw and gather the pieces of my brain that were just blown to tiny bits."
Boagrius laughed lightly. "I think it's better this way, though. You need someone figuratively older to watch you in case you do anything particularly…human again. Baron can't be the only one that has to look after you. Considering your history with other pokemon and unfortunate accidents, you definitely need a voice of reason that doesn't deem swinging across chasms with some rope as a perfectly acceptable activity." Baron had told him of the story previously, and while hilarious, it raised important questions about his trainer's sense of reason.
Riven couldn't help but snicker. "And what do you mean by, 'particularly human'?" Now Boagrius was taking potshots at him?
"Humans do stupid things. Often. That's what makes them interesting to watch." Boagrius had seen other humans come to Forina. Once, he saw some of them try to create an abomination of Groudon using Jirachi's power. And Arceus did that fail spectacularly. It recklessly killed half the plant life too, something the Brelooms hadn't forgotten at all. And the other wild pokemon didn't take kindly to being swallowed either. Luckily, the humans found a way to undo their mess and Jirachi was returned safely. Still, it spoke volumes about how intelligent humans really were, versus how they claimed to be.
The black-haired trainer scoffed, definitely potshots. "I can't guarantee you that I won't do something 'human' again. After all, stupidity is a trait we have in spades, Boagrius" he joked light-heartedly. "Still… why did you go out of your way to give me life advice? Violent tree therapy is very effective."
Boagrius blew a light powder snow at him, covering a part of Riven's hair in frost. He blinked and shook it off.
"Someone has to cheer you up too. People who brood upset me, even if they try their absolute best to hide it from everyone else. Which is something a certain human seems to be a master of." He gave him a knowing wink and his trainer reddened.
Boagrius rose high into the air.
"For you see, there must be JOY! And HAPPINESS! Not sorrow and pain." He made an exaggerated frown. "And you kept beating that poor tree. Not only were you engaging in self destructive behavior-just look at those hands- but you were disturbing the Seedot living there too." Boagrius gestured upwards with his eyes. "I had to do something. Bullet seeds can leave nasty bruises."
"Huh? Seedot?" Riven glanced up at the branches of the tree, finally seeing the three irritated Seedot glaring holes into him. "Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about that." He stood up and backed away from the tree, excusing himself.
"Rude. Stupid human. Go away. Doesn't realize some of us are trying to sleep," they berated him reproachfully, and shut their eyes to go back to sleep.
Boagrius chuckled lightly, following his trainer as he walked back to the cave. "What will you do now? Train?" That was all his trainer ever did anyway. Well, he did have two fighters. Made sense really, those pokemon lived for battle. Sometimes, he wished he was a fighter. But having the power of the heavens at his disposal wasn't a bad thing either.
"Not this week."
"Hmmm?" No training? That was odd.
"I think I'm going to bury them," the trainer said thoughtfully.
"The Absols?"
"Yeah."
"Why is that?"
"Leaving them to rot would be disrespectful. And it would help Sarim rest easier if they were put to rest the proper way. Maybe make a memorial too. That's what most humans do for their dead, I don't know what it's like for wild pokemon. But it's a good start."
"I see. Although it is strange, it is an excellent idea! I approve, trainer." The cheerful pokemon smiled widely. "You do possess a heart after all!"
"Hah. I'm glad you approve, Boagrius." The Castform bobbed in the air, as if nodding. Riven ran a hand through his hair, and sighed deeply. "That's a lot of work to do before Gale comes back though." Now if only he had a shovel…
"There are too many for just yourself. Will you tell the others of what you plan to do?" He couldn't dig up twenty-seven graves with just his fingers. But with humans, no one ever knew. "Baron's psychic can lessen the work load significantly," he suggested.
"Yeah. I'll talk to them tomorrow." Right now, he felt like resting. Some peace would do well for him. It had been a tough day, to say the least. For some more than others.
"Good, good. I will be there to provide NECESSARY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT!" Boagrius declared brightly.
Riven shook his head with a faint smile. "Sure thing. And thanks for the 'emotional support' by the way. It saved me from the fury of the dastardly and almighty Seedot," he said with light sarcasm. "Night, old man Boagrius." He waved and disappeared back into the cave, heading to get some rest(or try at least).
Boagrius remained outside, smiling.
It seems I chose well. Baron doesn't have to worry much after all.