"And then he up and ran away!" The distressed Espurr exclaimed, pointing to the depths of the alleyway through which she had seen Gallade disappear.
The assembled crowd devolved into panicked whispers and mumbling, a few Pokemon hurrying to place themselves as far from the ginnel and as close to Scyther and Ursaring as they could. Independently sprouting among them were similar visions of... something emerging from down there, of it abducting them into the darkness, and then dragging them up the hills and into its woods.
"Everyone! Everyone, please, I ask for you all to calm down! We need some tranquility in a time like this!" Leavanny called, her request only being granted once Kricketune tapped his claws together to usher their attention. "I realise that this must be very frightening to you all..."
...
She went quiet for a moment, her eyes darting from left to right, she hadn't actually prepared anything to say. She had no way to comfort them. She had no clue what was happening. Why hadn't he told them that he was leaving? Why was Gothitelle gone? It was unlike either of them!
Thankfully, Mawile jumped to her caretaker's side. "Surely, if Gallade thought whatever happened was worthy of our attention, he would've made an announcement?"
"Meaning that it's probably nothing to worry about at all!" The half-convinced Leavanny finished, vigorously nodding. "That's... that's right! I am asking you all to have full faith in the decisions the village leaders take. This is certain to be fully resolved soon enough—"
"Everyone, calm down, we're fine!" Gallade exclaimed, emerging from the same alleyway he had left through, Gothitelle following by his side.
"I have something to prepare, don't bother me until then," the latter strode away into the crowd, leaving the former to face the masses.
Espurr bolted to hug him, Morgrem and Mawile ran up to his legs, Leavanny put a hand on his shoulder, and the rest of the village surrounded him, everyone expressing their concern or relief.
"We were really scared!"
"Why did you run away like that?"
"Chief, what happened?"
"Nothing happened at all, rest assured that everyone's fine," he dislodged Espurr from around his chest and placed her back on the ground. "I simply had to get Gothi back here, since she was still in her Sanctuary... for reasons which she'll hopefully explain to us soon enough," he now turned to Scyther. "However, Scyther, I finally have a job for you."
The bug's expression lit up.
"We need someone at the Sanctuary, in the darkened sector, to make sure that the Murkrows don't pillage the place. Gothi didn't pack everything into the bank and no one can be bothered to do it now. Are you willing to volunteer?"
"YES! I want to be back on duty!" The bug exclaimed. "I'm on it!"
Once the insect had sprung back up into the air and left the residential street, the Guardian turned again to face the crowd. "And don't worry about him, he can take care of himself well enough. Try and enjoy the rest of the night."
Lurking in the darkness of an alleyway, Darkrai had watched Gallade's and Gothitelle's silhouettes emerge again from the Sanctuary, their forms slide through the unlit Town Square, and then crawl back into the comfort of the Residential Quarter.
The issue was that, even with their departure, he noticed that his treasure had not been left unguarded: there were other shapes populating the core of the village, while two, adjacent, bright beams perpetually scoured the area.
Following the light which strained his eyes to its source, he located, surely enough, Pumpkaboo stationed there, with her columns sporadically passing to reveal the horde of Murkrows assembled around her... in the most inconveniencing place they could have decided to occupy.
Hearing that they were discussing something, he melted into the gaps in the pavement and moved closer.
"So don't you think that you're at least a little bit guilty, then?" He heard Pumpkaboo ask, prolonging every vowel in her obvious hesitancy.
"No, bossmon!" One of the Murkrows snapped. "We were UNJUSTLY and UNFAIRLY DISPLACED from the Residential Quarter! That's the full truth of it! Right, fellas?" The bird turned to his flock, all of whom began to either nod, hop or flap their wings.
"Welp, okay then!" The pumpkin responded with newfound cheer. "I did need company, after all! It's pretty frightening out here... alone," she was reminded to shine her light on the outskirts of the Blightwoods — obviously finding nothing — and then turned back to face the raptors.
"Worry not about it, m'lady!" The Murkrow bowed. "We've got yer back, don't we, fellas?" They began again with their usual, obnoxious cawing, stomping and purposeless rattling of feathers.
"Okay, thank you," Pumpkaboo meekly replied, drowned out by the energy of the birds.
Darkrai retreated some distance away from the racket to think more clearly... as clearly as he could manage with how exhausted he was.
Suffice it to say that this would all require a greater degree of interference from him that previously expected, yet no obstacle would thoroughly deter him at this rate. After all of the time he had now wasted there, it was a matter of pride.
Evidently, them being posted right outside of the doorway of the Sanctuary would be an issue: even if he could enter inside and take the Life Orb silently enough for the sound of his rummaging to go unnoticed by the myriad of black birds which had infested the area, it would be impossible to leave with it, as holding an object would mean that he would be unable to totally hide within the shadows.
Absolutely not masterful enough at stealth to pull such a thing off, Darkrai considered his other options, and a prior idea he could cannibalise instantly sprang to mind: the wraith reached his claw out of the shadows and strained it, causing a grayish aura to engulf first his palm and then the air around him.
A dense Haze was quick to materialise and drowned out a portion of the Town Square. With a motion of his hand, he sent it on the move towards the Sanctuary and those who occupied its peripheries.
"Oh dear, oh dear..." he faintly heard Pumpkaboo panic as he entered the fog and snuck by her, the Murkrows beginning their shrieking as well, once the sheath of mist had reached them.
"Worry not, we'll defog it! Defog!" The birds cried, moving in to attempt to dissipate the fog, while Darkrai had already entered the Sanctuary.
For once, how loud they were had come to good use, cloaking the noise which would be made by his own operation, while the Haze would allow for him to slither out of there with the prized item in hand.
Furtively, he moved into the establishment and, once certain that he was hidden from view inside the antechamber, he emerged from the shadows. It was discomforting to be limited within them for too lon—
"None of you Murkrows better be in he—"
Darkrai was rammed against the ground before he could react, the foot of his assailant stomping down onto his torso and pinning him to the dirt, its claws burying themselves deep into his flesh.
"HOW DARE YOU COME ANYWHERE NEAR US?"
The figure speared Darkrai in the shoulder, producing a surge of pain so potent that he impulsively summoned a sphere of dark energy around himself, enshrouding his attacker and sending them into a nightmare-ridden coma.
The tension on his wound subsided, the claws piercing into his flesh were dislodged — but not without mangling his cuts further — and Scyther, already twitching and tormented, tumbled over.
Darkrai rushed to alleviate the bug's fall, keeping his head from striking the floor and, instead, gently placed it down on the ground, before being forced to tightly clutch the searing gash on his own shoulder. A viscous, purple ooze began to trail down his cloak, irritating his skin upon contact.
The panicking wraith retreated away from his suffering victim and realised what had just happened: for perhaps the first time in over three centuries, he had let himself get poisoned. An awful, throbbing sensation of being not only drained but slowly melted, burned away from the inside.
Overwhelmed and almost nauseated, Darkrai struggled to formulate a response to what had just happened, incapable of looking away from Scyther's agonising being.
He... he needed... he needed help! Someone's help!
... Espurr's help! There were no other choice, after all!
...
He covered his face with both hands. What was he supposed to do here?
Wait, no, he knew what to do! He reassured himself. He... he had a plan for this!
He clenched his fist — inadvertently straining his shoulder — he knew what to do! He needed to quickly get this over with, both things at once.
Darkrai's shadow extend and then detached itself from him. Immediately, the amorphous patch of black on the ground bolted out of the Sanctuary and towards the Residential Quarter. A Double Team clone, an illusion, one which would hopefully serve to lure a good samaritan to the tormented Scyther, while he got the extraction over with.
Morgrem pouted while he hung from Mawile's appendage, swaying back and forth as she trotted up the street and towards the games for the festival, both being followed by the levitating Espurr.
"Please, put me down!" He flailed his arms and legs, trying to dislodged himself from the grip of the jaw. "This is really embarrassing!"
"Sorry I have to do this to you, Morg," she chuckled, shaking her jaw to pacify the threshing goblin. "But your behaviour right now is what's really embarrassing."
"Oh, you can't say that!" Espurr interjected. "You know quite well that it's different for him! Remember how dark-types are immune to Dream Eater?"
"Well, it's not like he has anything to worry about, does he?" Mawile responded. "I'm looking after you and making sure you stay awake, Morg, like the little baby that you are."
"This is embarrassing," Morgrem pouted. "I'm older than you."
"You're a grumpy old 'mon, yeah."
"Which is it, then? I can't be both!"
"Whichever ever one you happen to be acting like at any given time."
"Really hilarious, Maw," he mumble. "I just wanna sit out the rest of the night at my comfy shop, which Gallade told me to guard, no less!"
"But, Morgrem, there are no berries to be found in your tray anymore!" Espurr responded to that odd excuse. "Would you not rather enjoy this night with us?"
Gallade was incredibly strict when it came to the application of the rules, but he allowed for leeway when they didn't really make sense, like in this case!
"Ugh, fine, look, this night makes me very, VERY nervous and I'd much rather just stick to one place where I can easily be accounted for. Make sense? I don't buy all of the deco and festivities, this night is TERRIBLE!"
He was such a scaredy Litten that it became hard to bear after a certain point!
Espurr got the idea to reach into the little bag Miss Gothitelle had given her, feeling around in it until her hand touched what she was looking for.
"Morg, please accept this Chesto Berry from me," she handed him the fruit, which he quickly grabbed and began to gnaw on. "I wasn't supposed to give you it, but it's quite doubtful that anyone else is going to need it for tonight," Espurr chuckled. "They're all being very careful, and that's quite frankly all you need to do to stay awake! Just be prudent, how hard is it to not fall asleep? And that's just about the only way you could get nightmares!" It would obviously get harder as it went on, but they would be allowed to go to sleep earlier in the afternoon, before the usual curfew, so all was good and thought through already!
"Maybe," the goblin conceded, giving his best attempt to pry open the maw again before giving up. "Can't help but feel nervous though, especially since... it," he struggled to find a word that didn't name it. "Might be hunting some of us in particular. You remember Miss Lilligant, right? She was the last one to look after the berry tray, and it took her! And now I'm doing the same job! Don't you think that means something?"
"No, that's nonsense, Morg. You're just being paranoid," Mawile responded.
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Look, I didn't wanna mention something happening to someone else, but take Esp here for a second. She's the Dream Eater, what if it tries to come after her in particular... somehow?"
"Don't worry, I have no fear of it," Espurr patted his arm. "I don't even believe that the Moonshadow targets pokemon on purpose, it just picks victims, well, randomly!" She knew that he didn't pick victims at all, actually, but Darkrai said that she shouldn't vouch for him too much.
Instantly, this comment earned her lifted eyebrows and tilted heads. Morgrem and Mawile exchanged glances.
Apparently, she had already said something that was considered too much.
"But Miss Gothitelle explained that it went after important pokemon on purpose, remember? Like when Gallade instantly got a nightmare after falling asleep," Morgrem retorted. "It could definitely do the same for anyone else. Especially you!"
"I'm not sure if... it did attack Gallade on purpose. Maybe she's just wrong," she awkwardly rubbed her ear, not sure of how to continue this talk. "Anyhow, let's play... that game!"
She pointed her paw at random, landing on one of the stalls: 'Mareep Stack', the board read above it read. Below the sign sat Ursaring, drinking from his bottle of Chesto Berry juice while carving a block of wood with his claws.
"Oh... actually, I think staying close to Mr. Ursaring is a darn good idea!" The now ecstatic Morgrem was released from Mawile's hold.
Upon approaching it, though, they were cut off by Honchkrow's sudden descent from out of the night sky, landing right in front of them and proceeding to nonchalantly hop to the counter.
"Pardon me, but I go first," the bird said, smoothing his feathers and not giving them any more consideration than that.
"Sir, we came here first," Mawile frowned.
"Don't make a fuss out of this," Ursaring turned and commented, making her huff and step back from the counter.
"Oh... of course!" Espurr awkwardly chuckled, hiding that she was a tad irked by the awful rudeness as well. "That's quite alright, Mr. Honchkrow!" It wasn't much to get angry about, really.
"You'd think that the banker of all Pokemon would have better manners than that," Mawile growled and crossed her arms, watching as the bird marched up to the table and picked the figurine of a Chingling carved from wood.
He took his time to diligently inspect the item. "Neatly made," Honchkrow abruptly stuffed it into his mane, earning him confused looks from everyone other than Ursaring, who directed his attention away from whatever he was carving and narrowed his eyes.
The raptor turned towards the pyramid of wooden Mareep statuettes in front of them and began to flap his wings at the stack, conjuring a gust which made the structure shake.
Before it could collapse, though, an enraged bear placed himself in the way, his menacing snarl making the raptor retreat from the counter and run behind Mawile.
"Cut that off, you're supposed to throw at the pyramid!" He growled. "It's not clever, you do this every darn time!"
Before he could comply and leave, Ursaring grabbed him by the neck, dislodging the Chingling hidden in his feathers. "And give that back!" The bear shoved him away, sending Honchkrow flying off with a distressed squawk.
While Mawile giggled at him stumbling to fly away, and Morgrem cowered behind her with a newfound fear, Espurr floated up onto the counter and picked up one of the little Chingling statues to admire.
"These toys are so adorable, Mr. Ursaring!" It was like if her bell was also a little person!
She tried to shake it, but it sadly didn't ring.
"Thank you," Ursaring snatched it out of her hands. "I personally carved and painted these wooden statuettes, so make sure you don't blow 'em up or something," the bear huffed, sitting back down and leaving the wooden bell pokemon on the counter in front of her.
"Don't worry, I have this Soothe Bell now — thanks to my friends — so whenever I feel as if I'm on the verge of causing problems, I simply make it chime and thus instantly calm down!" She responded, tapping it as a demonstration.
"Yeah, great. Anyway, here you throw one of these bell guys," Ursaring picked up one of the Chinglings. "At the stack of Mareep there," he then gestured to the pyramid of sheep toys. "Make the most fall over and you win, simple? Simple," the bear concluded, answering his own question, and then returned to drinking and fashioning what seemed to be an Arrokuda from his piece of wood, heeding them no further attention.
"Yeah, I don't think we needed the explanation," Mawile responded, earning her an eye-roll and shrug from the preoccupied Ursaring. "Anyone up to go first?"
Morgrem immediately stepped up and slinked over to the pile of figurines. "Lemme try," his long hair wrapped itself around the wooden piece and quickly launching it directly at the tower, causing a good chunk of the Mareeps to come tumbling down.
"Woah! Quite nicely done, Morg!" Espurr and Mawile clapped, prompting their friend to bow in front of them, a prideful grin running across his face. She would bet that he hadn't even noticed his worries disappear!
"I'll follow you up, alright?" Espurr now took his place, but, instead of using her weak and stubby hands to throw the bell, she took a moment to concentrate and surround it with psychic energy, elevating the object into the air.
"Nyuh!" Espurr grunted as she threw the suspended figurine at the second stack of Mareep... and missed entirely, letting it hit the wall behind the target and then bounce off pathetically. "Aww..." she got really glum all of a sudden, being sure that she would have at least hit the stack, after all of that training with Gallade where she did pretty well! "I missed quite badly," she huffed. Maybe she needed to practice a lot more on her precision, then.
Mawile comforted the downtrodden Espurr by patting her on the back, while Morgrem triumphantly smirked, one of his opponents having just terribly missed her shot.
"Not like it would've mattered," Mr. Ursaring interjected, barely taking his attention off of the Arrokuda effigy he was in the middle of fashioning. "Using telekinesis is banned."
"Wait," Morgrem tilted his head. "Why didn't you say so sooner, then?"
"Saving my breath," the bear huffed. "Not like she had any chance of hitting that," while he turned his gaze back to the fish statue he was carving, Espurr turned hers to the ground, unable to help keep herself from feeling a wee bit worse after that remark.
She did have a chance! She was just... tired... was all! But she could've hit it!
Maybe...
"My turn," Mawile frowned at the, once again, inattentive Ursaring.
She marched over to one of the Chingling figurines, picked it up and then threw it into the air, only to catch it with her jaw.
"Stockpile!" She exclaimed as her hair swallowed the bell whole.
It took Ursaring a second to realise what was happening, forcing him to abruptly jump from his chair, slam the Arrokuda on the table and gesture for her to stop.
"Wait, don't eat it!" He cried.
But it was too late for her to stop herself, as the contour of her maw began to emit a dust-like cloud of red aura.
"And Spit Up!" She shouted, sending the energy-embalmed Chingling flying into the stack of Mareep, blowing up on impact and charring the surrounding area.
Ursaring, initially frozen in the middle of his motion, turned to Mawile and let off a snarl which, while it did not frighten her, made Espurr's hairs rise and Morgrem take a few steps.
"You idiots! I told you to throw it, not blow—"
The sound of Kricketune tapping his claws together took his attention off of the troublemakers.
"Gothitelle is calling for everyone's attention to give her address for this New Moon!" The cricket called. "Gather 'round! Gather 'round!"
"I have an announcement to give, explanations to offer and... an apology to make," Gothitelle told the assembly before her. "But, first, let me wish everyone here good health and good luck in our continued perseverance through this New Moon. It may be frightening and exhausting, just as every other night, but I am convinced that we will endure well until tomorrow without any tragedy."
"And now I expect you to give us all your explanation as to what you were doing out there alone," Gallade hushed the mass of Pokemon with a gesture. "And keep it concise, please."
"Right, right," Gothitelle gave him a resentful look and huffed. "I believe most of you noticed my long absence, even if you did not voice any concerns directly."
The crowd slowly nodded.
"Rest assured that I am well and fine, and that all, in general, is well and fine," she continued. "As for the reason for my absence: Leavanny had left some of the supplies for the night in disorder, such as mixed up healing elixirs, self-evidently not well dosed potions... and the like."
Leavanny gasped, hearing the mounting whispers from the townsfolk around her.
"For my part, as the manager of the Sanctuary, I felt rather guilty for letting something like that slip, so I took the risk of staying out there, where the monster may be lurking, and put everything back in order. My apologies for any distress which I may have caused to any of you. The secrecy was, ironically, meant to avoid causing panic," Gothitelle shrugged.
"Oh... well... oh..." Leavanny stammered. "I'm quite sorry for that, everyone, you know that I don't usually mess up like that. Deeply, deeply sorry for this, Gothi," the bug bowed multiple times over, first towards the crowd and then towards the psychic-type.
"Oh pish," Gothitelle hesitated before speaking again. "It's all fine now. There's nothing to worry about. All is well and fine, as I said."
"It's really not! Let's not simply swipe this mistake under the rug," she countered. "This is not a night I can afford to be so careless during. I am truly, deeply sorry for any mistakes made! Especially if—"
Leavanny cut off her apologies and froze, gaping ahead at Gothitelle... no, above her shoulder.
The muttering of the assembly suffocated.
The road went still.
The seemingly terror-soaked expressions of the villagers before her slowly veered to the wall of the building behind her.
The incomprehensible silence choked Gothitelle. Unwilling to turn around, her gaze darted to a sudden shuffling: Morgrem, his expression shrivelling up, as if on the verge of tears, pacing backwards with increasing speed.
"Gothi, get out of there!" Ursaring shouted.
She was too disoriented to do so on her own, but Gallade abruptly scooped her off her feet and retreated to the core of the crowd with a single pounce. Gothitelle was quick to push away the bear in whose hands she had been placed and finally turned to face the wall.
The sight drained the colors from her face.
Across the street, outstretched over the height of the structure, an enormous, spectral shadow loomed over them, slowly waving its claws of darkness. Asking for their attention.
The blot of darkness then began to writhe, distorting itself into a vortex upon the wall, before taking on a different form: Scyther, imitating his movements and gestures, for the alarmed crowd to behold.
Gothitelle's body went numb, she let herself be crushed by fear and shrank away behind Ursaring.
She had done it. She had managed to anger the thing!
This was all her fault! She shouldn't have stayed in the darkened sector!
How had she gotten so carried away?
Everyone would suffer because of her!
"What do you want from us?" Gallade's trembling scream made her leap away from the bear and bury herself amongst the crowd behind him. "LEAVE HERE! LEAVE US ALONE!"
She reluctantly forced herself to face the shadow once more, only for it to lunge at them.
Terror thundered down on her and she instantly sealed her eyes shut, coiled her arms around herself, and prepared for her demise.
Even as she heard the shuffling and panicked screams of the masses, of Pokemon stumbling over each other, all around her, nothing came. Once the cacophony subsided, she dared to, again, look up, just in time to spot the massive silhouette slide down into the lower depths of the street...
...and then it vanished, just as it had appeared, tearing itself apart into a smoke-like shade that gradually phased out of distinction.
The few who hadn't gone mute uttered feeble gasps, but, silently, they all understood what it was telling them: Scyther had made a mistake by staying out there alone.
Gallade, stuck in his battle stance, finally lowered his blades, took a few steps back to arrive by the bear's side, and then closed his eyes.
He exhaled, the quavering of his breath being heard by all, and then looked back to Ursaring.
"Get everyone to safety," the guardian muttered. "Scyther is suffering."
A loud gasp from among the townsfolk caught everyone's attention, but Espurr flared up with pink energy and took off towards the Town Square before they could react.
His chest heavy, Darkrai dared to look back to Scyther, who would jerk and grunt every so often from fright or pain, suffering a nightmare which the former was far too exhausted and disoriented to be able to perceive. His unconsidered defense had just condemned another soul to an extended period of anguish at best... he could only hope that his lure would work, that someone there had the courage necessary to come to his aid, otherwise... poor Scyther's ambush will have been his last act.
The suffocating guilt was a sensation which only came to be alleviated by a sudden, blazing ache from the infested gash defacing his shoulder.
This had also put Darkrai on a timer, he needed to rest to avoid fainting, otherwise he'd be left regretting his wish for a brave soul, just as he had come to regret his rash instincts and this accursed plan of his!
His eyes veered away from his latest victim and, cradling his wound, he ignored the searing pain and remorse to sluggishly enter the central room of the Sanctuary. Luckily, it was lit, though he still had to contend with his bleary vision and the frustrating difficulty to concentrate as he searched the shelves, the occasional flashes of pain disrupting his coordination all the while.
Finally, he spotted it: the Life Orb! Hidden at the back of the overhang, behind a pile of other trash.
Relieved, Darkrai reached his trembling hand towards it, straining his throbbing muscles, and cleared away the rest of the items. Inexplicably, his claws grazing some of the items on the overhang made him reflexively recoil, much more than it should have. Not understanding why, he blamed his tiredness.
The only pointless phrase which reverberated through his head was 'no touching this anymore'.
...he could no longer sense the obstacles to his hand.
A chill crawled up his spine, a literal one. A cold gust of air caressed his cloak.
The screeches of the Murkrows were now amplified.
They came from all around him.
His eyes widened, his stomach clenched and he reflexively ducked into the shadows, just in time, as Pumpkaboo's accursed ray of light came to point directly at him, while the birds dispelled the surrounding Haze.
WHY WAS HE OUTSIDE?
WHY WAS HE OUTSIDE?
WHY WAS HE OUTSIDE?
His heart racing, Darkrai's eyes lingered on the pumpkin, who stared back at this peculiar stain of darkness on the ground her beam was unable to banish, soon being joined in her confusion by the collective of raptors.
"Wha... what is this thing?"
He dared not move, tensing so thoroughly that he held his breath in and began to choke on his panic.
"Shadow Sneak?"
"Shadow Sneak!"
"Must be!"
"Lampent!"
The Murkrows shrieked a symphony of incomprehensible and unrelated phrases which overwhelmed him further, while Pumpkaboo flashed her light on and off, blinding Darkrai but also freeing him from his paralysis.
He felt himself begin to instinctively retreat, still fixating on the Pokemon around him, who did not keep themselves from following the black blot.
"So... L— Lampent...?" Pumpkaboo stuttered while hovering closer to him. "That... that is just you using Shadow Sneak... right?"
Gallade and Leavanny sprinted down the curving streets and towards Gothitelle's Sanctuary, being given no room nor time to be prudent, as Espurr continued her own unwavering advance, braving the darkness the moonless night had plunged the village into.
How she managed to be so much more courageous than all of them was beyond him, but her distressed caretaker harboured no such admiration.
"Espurr dear, I am begging you to slow down!" Leavanny cried out, reluctant to raise her voice when she knew that the monster was somewhere around them. "It's not safe here!"
But she didn't listen, and instead accelerated her unrelenting pace, vanishing into the wall of amorphous fog which appeared ahead of them.
Gallade slowed down and then halted at the edge of the out of place, white void — readying himself to try and sense the location of Pumpkaboo, at the very least — but Leavanny dove into it without a second thought, forcing him to go after her. They navigated the mist by following the chimes of Espurr's bell, eventually leaving the ashen abyss which had set upon their beloved village and regrouping at the front of the blue tent.
Fresh dread and worry mounted within him before he entered, being only worsened by the loud caws and noises coming from the dark gulfs of the town. For now, though, looking after Espurr, Scyther and Leavanny took priority.
He clenched his fist, suppressed his shiver and resolved to stride into the establishment.
... and the very first sight made his blood freeze: Scyther, lying there on the floor in the corridor, writhing in agony, emitting pathetic squeals of fear uncharacteristic of him, flailing his scythes in the air.
Gallade went rigid. The darkness exuding from his comrade's body made him feel nauseous and unsteady on his feet, even from as far away as he was. It dulled his own senses in its favour, irradiating him with a feeling of both anxiety and weakness, clawing at his throat and making him gasp for air.
Gallade took a few steps back, noticing that Espurr was faring far better in its presence... somehow. Perhaps because her senses were less developed, perhaps because she had very closely contended with it once already.
The panicking child landed by Scyther and began to cover the victim with the glimmering aura of her Dream Eater. Meanwhile, Leavanny took out every fruit and item from the latter's sack.
"Please wake him up," Gallade whimpered, as if they were hesitating.
Faintly, once Scyther's groans of pain began to subside, they could hear more cawing coming from the distance outside.
Wherever he went, no matter the tight alleyways he retreated into, no matter the sharp turns he made, or the speed at which he slithered through the village, he would, inevitably, only be met by a new subsection of the same murder of Murkrows, none of whom seemed to have have any issue tracking him now, even in the pitch-black of the night.
His attempts to distract them using Double Team were foiled by his illusions either not detaching at all, or vanishing as soon as they did. He was exhausted, he couldn't concentrate, he couldn't keep this up.
The only fortunate thing was they hadn't stopped in their erroneous assumption that he was but their friend on an impromptu excursion through the village at night.
"Lampent, please stop this," Pumpkaboo huffed, struggling to keep the light targeted on him, while he slide from one side of the road to the other. "You're being awfully annoying right now! You're not allowed to go wherever you please willy-nilly!" She shouted, incapable of doing anything about it.
Initially, he simply ignored her, at worst, she would sometimes inconvenience him by shining her beam right into the direction he was facing, temporarily blinding him, which slowed him in his return to the Blightwoods. Them continuing to believe that he was Lampent and following him into there would bring him a whole host of issues, and, seemingly, they were ones he would have to endure.
A jolt of burning pain from the poison reminded him of why he needed to hurry: with every throb, the aching intensified and expanded its tendrils to further envelop his body, sometimes forcing him to slow or halt in the midst of his escape.
The Murkrows rose in a caterwaul of frustrated cries, now attacking his poor hearing. "Do something, boss! Do something!" They began to shout.
"Right, right! You can't say that we didn't warn you!" She responded, forcing Darkrai to recoil into an alleyway, as he was fully expecting to soon be compelled into evading a barrage of beams and bolts, any one of which hitting its target would force the Nightmare Weaver out of hiding.
Instead, once he looked back to those trailing him — prepared to dart forward and under them just as they unleashed their attacks — Pumpkaboo's lights turned a crimson red, instantly captivating his attention. The longer he stared ahead at them, the more the colours in his surroundings became muddled and took on either a pronounced black or red hue.
Incapable of even blinking, Darkrai initially assumed that he was on the verge of being hypnotised... before Pumpkaboo's face began to bubble and melt, transmogrifying into a sight far too hideous for even him to behold.
Instead of his attention being sucked in, now he couldn't keep himself from averting his gaze away from the deformed cadaver.
He was left speechless.
What...?
What did she do?
Was her plan just to somehow mangle herself alive?
How...?
The lingering chills and mounting, heavy breathing he was left with induced a sudden realisation, one which made him dare to turn back towards her: Pumpkaboo was still beaming her light at him, not malformed at all.
It had just happened again! Him, the Nightmare Weaver, the spawn of Arceus who lorded over Nightmares, had just been frightened by a non-evolved Pokemon for the second time in the span of a month!
He had been tricked by Scary Face! Scary Face!
A shock from the poison disrupted his thoughts, his left arm felt dull.
"A... and if you think that's scary, Lampent... there's much worse lurking around in the dark, you'd better get back to the Square!" Pumpkaboo screamed, sounding equally vexed with how ardent her target was being in its refusal to comply and regretful for inflicting that horror upon it.
Humiliated again, Darkrai noted that he was not, in fact, more ghastly than whatever she had just dared to show him, and returned to his journey, noticeably more sluggish than before.
This was one of the binding effects of that move: slowness. He was no longer legitimately scared of what he had seen and was never frightened thoroughly enough for this behaviour to ever have been the natural response, but all of his attempts at accelerating were curbed by an abrupt feeling of being drained of his vital force, paired with a headache and symptoms of fear, without the fear itself being present.
He could no longer even hope to make it out of there undetected, as he was now advancing at the pace of a Slugma, occasionally flinching from the searing corrosion.
Some of the birds could now trace him by simply skipping along the ground besides the silhouette.
His last turn, now in the direction of his woods, instead of some avenue he would have hoped to use to confuse them, caused the Murkrows to begin their irritated — and irritating — cacophony anew.
"I'm warning you, bucko," one of the black birds began, landing right in front of where he was heading and following him along as he moved. "Gallade gave us the right to mildly harm anyone who's being noncompliant."
The proposal sent a shiver down his spine, prompting him to try and accelerate in his pace, only to give himself a headache which stopped him in his tracks, the hyperventilating and trembling induced by the move flaring up once more.
He had no pavement in whose gaps to recede into, either.
"Please Lampent, don't make us have to hurt you," he could barely make out Pumpkaboo interject, flashing her light on and off into his vision, making his anguish all the worse.
"Teach him who's boss, boss ma'am!" Was the last thing Darkrai heard one of the Murkrows cry before he was struck by an oncoming Shadow Ball — being too tired, slow, incapable of concentration and overall debilitated to evade it — which forced him out of the shadows.
As the dust settled, the Nightmare Weaver locked sights with the flock and scout, an oppressive silence setting in, but not without him being able to see their ever-widening eyes.
Levitating there in complete silence and in complete unease, an idea came to him and was instantly put to use.
"Greetings... townsfolk," he struggled to articulate. "My name is Darkrai... I am but a traveler from afar," they had very little idea about the appearance of the Moonshadow! It worked with Espurr, it should wor—
"MOONSHADOW!" The murder shrieked in unison, all of them dispersing and hurrying away towards the Town Square.
He realised that, no, what would have worked with a mere child did not work on these night guards.
What he didn't realise, however, was that Gallade was sprinting towards him... at least, not until an acute blade struck him in the chest, sending him hurling into the wall of a building.