Re: Pokemon: Team StormRiders
New Chapter up!
*Please note that this chapter contains very gory and violent scenes.
If you don't think you are able to handle it, skip the chapter. PG 13+*
Chapter 11: Truth and Lies
It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be to escape the others. As soon as I’d had my lunch however, I saw my chance. Codan had very sourly started cleaning up after us, Lani was ready for a nap, but Jarre was watching me intently, Nothing I did could escape his focus. I peered over at Codan who had now begun to stack the bowls. I needed to get out of here; to the Records Room. I frowned slightly. If I remembered correctly, it was to the left of the entrance, just past the front desk.
As Codan turned, I cleared my throat and glanced at him hastily. “Um…can I go to the restroom?” I grinned and slowly gritted my teeth.
Codan smiled. “Just down that hall, second door on your right.” He gestured to a bright and classy hallway.
I nodded thanks and walked out of the room, all the while Jarre’s eyes locked onto me like an irremovable stain. As soon as I’d turned the corner, I pricked my ears and closed my eyes. I could feel the vibrations in the building. An Arcanine a floor below, a Togekiss training with a Sneasel, the Records Room two floors down…my heart gave a sudden jolt. Empty! As quiet as a Gastly, I made my way down the stairs; the elevator would draw too much unnecessary attention.
When I’d reached the Records Room door, I froze. My eyes hovered over a card slot. I rolled my eyes and groaned. Of course they wouldn’t leave it unprotected! “Stupid!” I muttered almost silently. I stole a quick glance around the room, then stepped up to the card slot. I held out a steady paw and let loose a claw from inside. Carefully, I placed the claw in the slot and dragged it down, manoeuvring around the tiny chinks. As soon as I’d reached the bottom, a slight beep alerted my attention. The door slid sideways and I held onto it, squeezing into the room and then shutting it again behind me.
Bright daylight poured in from a glass hole in the ceiling, filling the room in a radiant glow. I turned slowly and my jaw dropped. Millions of rows of shelves stood packed with figurines. I walked up to one. It was a small, light brown Eevee. A silver nameplate was engraved on the stand. ‘Lau’. I reached out a paw to touch the Eevee and instantly recoiled. It was warm! And beating! I placed a shaky paw on the side of it. A steady heartbeat flowed against it. Incredible! The records were miniatures of real Pokemon! Only, these ones didn’t move. My gaze hovered slowly on the stand. Just above the nameplate was an orb the size of a Cheri berry. I reached out and held it between my paws. It was blue and seemed to have three holes in it. A cool voice sounded behind me.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”
I started and spun around. “Rye! How?--”
He smirked and walked over to me, taking the orb from my paw and placing it back gently.
“What is this?” I stared at him uneasily as he walked to a nearby shelf and studied the figurines.
Rye glanced at me and gave a slight smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t report you.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” I repeated firmly.
He stared at me for a moment longer and turned back to the shelf. “I thought you’d know. These are everyone’s permanent records in the world.”
I gaped. “Everyone’s? In this room?”
Rye smirked again and pointed to a line of Pikachu’s. “Everyone’s. Yours will be along there somewhere I’d wager. Interesting things these,” He picked up a small Pichu from below the Pikachu’s line. “They live and breath as we do, but they don’t move. A nameplate, a heartbeat, everything.” He placed it back down and picked up the orb instead. “These,” He paused slightly for effect, “Are your past, present and occasionally future.”
I stared at the glowing orb. “How?”
Rye waved me over and turned the orb so I could see three small buttons. “The first one’s for a Pokemon’s past,” --He turned it to the second one, and then the third--”present and future. Press one of these, and the exact memories and feelings of the Pokemon who had them appear instantly in your mind. Except for the future, which is more of a prophecy told only in glimpses by the voice of this world.” Rye finished and put the orb back into place, just above the nameplate of the Pichu.
I stared at the tiny Pichu and jumped when Rye’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“So, which one are you after?”
I glanced at the floor, then back to Rye, averting his eyes. “I…was looking for Jarre’s…” I trailed off as the ghost of a smile touched Rye’s mouth.
“I wouldn’t fool around with this, Zanna, it’s highly dangerous. His I wouldn’t recommend.”
“Why?” I snapped, “If everyone else knows and you won’t tell me, I have a right!”
He looked at me sharply. “It’s not a game. You can’t--”
“I can handle it.”
My voice sounded firm and confident. I wasn’t wavering. I needed to know once and for all who Jarre really was. Rye’s eyes locked onto mine for a moment, then glanced to the left.
He sighed. “The Torchic’s are over there, by the Growlithe’s. Listen, Zanna, if you find something you didn’t want to hear, don’t expect me to bail you out of it,” He looked at me solemnly and a touch of gentleness entered his tone. “Because I won’t.”
His gaze wavered for a moment, then he turned and walked swiftly through the rows of figurines and disappeared around a corner. I bit my lip cautiously. Rye’s words washed over me like a freezing tidal wave, but he was right. And I wouldn’t need his help. This was something I had to do by myself. I needed to.
I walked up to the Torchic’s and scanned for Jarre’s name. A silver plaque stood out engraved in red and black. The cool blue eyes of the Torchic stared back placidly. As I took the orb in my paws, I shivered. It glistened as I turned to the first, gleaming button. If I hesitated, I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. Without a second thought, I pressed it in and uttered a small yelp as my world went black.
Pain erupted in my head like a million nails. My vision was constantly going in and out of focus. The world was shifting through the very fabric of time and space! As soon as I thought my head would explode, the pain ended and my vision cleared.
I stood in an old warehouse. It had a tin roof and sandstone walls. Huge boxes lined the back wall, with only a single window in the roof to allow light to flow freely into the building. A small archway was at my left, in the wall, and it seemed to attract the light which gave an eerie feeling to the engravings upon it. The rest of the room stood bare apart from a Gengar, a Torchic and a midnight-black Absol. Scythe.
Jarre stood a couple of metres from Scythe, talking in a low voice to the Gengar, who returned his words with a sharp nod.
Suddenly, I felt very powerful and pleased. I looked down at my body and almost reeled. I was a transparent, flickering figure! My eyes widened as I understood what was going on. I was a mere spirit in Jarre’s past. The sudden emotions I had, belonged to him! We were in total sync with each other. A sharp voice pierced my mind.
So…he is on the move again…
I jumped. The voice was cold and harsh. It was almost so different from the Jarre I now knew. I could hear his very thoughts and emotions pulse through me. And at the moment, I felt good. Energy and vigour made me feel alive!
My gaze locked onto the Gengar who was now moving swiftly back to the sitting Absol. At his approach, she held her head high and smirked.
“No need to worry. Send out a search crew,” She relaxed and retracted her claws. “He’s close. I can feel it!”
Her very aura was malicious. Rye had been right when he said she was renown for her wickedness.
The Gengar gave a curt nod and turned to Jarre. “Assemble the Hunters.”
The Torchic nodded and walked over to the engraved archway. I followed him and stopped a couple of metres away. In my mind I began to hear strange words.
…Akatune, viaera, dask ka’une! …
The cold stone doors of the archway spun open and the engravings glowed in a bright, crimson red. The words were a silent password, no doubt conveyed by telepathy. Only those who knew them would be able to enter and exit at will.
I followed Jarre silently through the stone doors. As soon as I was through they automatically shut, causing me to start. Jarre had stopped at the end of a dark hall. The sandstone walls were lined with fiery torches, lighting the walkway dimly. As I edged up to him, I saw a group of vicious looking Pokemon.
They were about four feet tall with a dark grey body, large hooked claws; dark red eyes, tail, collar, ears and a crest on top of it’s head. Each had small protruding fangs and a bright gold gem-like thing embedded in it’s forehead. My instincts told me that these Pokemon were called Weavile, and they were not to mess around with. Their build suggested great speed and strength.
Jarre began to talk in a low, hushed tone. “I know he’s out there somewhere. Find me that Pikachu, or heads will roll. And it won’t be mine.”
The group of Weavile nodded, saluted Jarre and jumped up through a small opening in the right wall.
I saw Jarre smile. I know the Hunters won’t fail me. That Pikachu will be mine within the hour.
As I felt his anger and satisfaction pass through me, I paused to think. Jarre wanted a Pikachu. What in the name of Arceus for? I shook my head. I’d never heard of that saying before…how did I know it? I must have gotten it from the depths of Jarre’s subconscious, I concluded.
Jarre sighed and headed off through the left wing. I followed, but this time kept my distance. This Torchic was beginning to scare me. He looked so different than what I knew. His eyes were more narrowed and a darker shade of blue than I remembered. His wings were rough and edgy, as was his crest and feathers, which were now a darker hue of red. His talons were long and curved and looked deadly. My insides lurched. Whoever this Pokemon was, it wasn’t Jarre. And I had no desire to get any closer to it. My thoughts followed me as I entered a new room.
This one was occupied by metal cages and tables. A testing room? As I saw more of the room however, there seemed to be Pokemon strapped to the tables, struggling like crazy to free themselves. No, not a testing room, I thought, a torturing room! This didn’t seem to phase Jarre as he walked up to a cage. Two Pokemon seemed to be inside. My instincts told me they were a Sneasel and a Buizel. As Jarre approached, the Sneasel glared and bared it’s teeth, snarling.
Jarre sneered. “Well, well, Sneasel. Ready to talk yet?”
“Never,” It hissed. “You won’t get a single word out of me for as long as I live!”
Jarre looked offended. “That shouldn’t be too long the way you’re heading. But…we’ll see. Guards!”
At Jarre’s call, two Tyranitar came up and unlocked the cage. The Sneasel stood firm while the Buizel looked up and stared in nervous shock at it’s companion. As the Tyranitar backed out with the Sneasel, Jarre followed them as they strapped it tightly to a wooden cross. The Sneasel snarled and hissed, but the Tyranitar were too strong for it. His attempts to escape were nothing more than a pitiful struggle to them. As Jarre nodded to the guards and they backed away, the Sneasel panted for breath and hung it’s head limply. I really didn’t like where this was heading. Jarre walked up to the Sneasel and raised his head in satisfaction.
The Pokemon sneered and spat on the Torchic. Jarre bared his beak in a snarl and scratched at it with a talon. The wail of the Sneasel hit me like a shock wave, but I was incapable of feeling sad. All I felt was pulsing hot anger and contentment. I felt it would drive me insane if I didn’t get out of here soon, but I was stuck! My eyes watched as crimson blood flowed freely from the open wound in the Sneasel’s chest.
Jarre smile maliciously. “Now pray I won’t have to do that again. Where is the Pikachu?”
The Sneasel raised it’s head and smiled. “Taking down your master from the petty throne he sits on!”
Jarre scowled and narrowed his eyes, raising a foot. “Don’t make me do it…”
The Sneasel merely smirked. “You can’t silence us. We are rescuers, free and proud. We serve no one,” He narrowed his eyes. “Certainly not little chickens!”
Jarre had snapped. I felt seething hatred flow through my veins, and at the same time, willing the memory to stop. The Torchic had begun to glow red. As he opened his beak, a hot jet of flame pulsed out and engulfed the Sneasel. In an instant, it’s shrieks had pierced me. I covered my ears, writhing in agony like the Sneasel. And still, my eyes were stuck fast to the scene. As the flames cleared I saw the Pokemon. He was alive, but badly burnt. A singed smell wafted through the air.
“Now talk!” Jarre hissed.
The Sneasel said not a word as it struggled to stay conscious. Jarre’s eyes narrowed again. He jumped up and in one swift movement he had buried his talons deep within the Pokemon’s chest. The Sneasel screamed and his eyelids fluttered. Jarre’s talons made him stick fast to the poor Pokemon. Blood poured from the fresh pinholes in his right side. The Sneasel yelped again and creased it’s face as Jarre tightened the grip with his talons.
“One, swift movement, Sneasel, and I can rip out a chunk of your flesh. Now, one last time. Where is the PIKACHU!?”
Jarre’s sharp voice rang through the entire room. Every last square inch had been rendered silent as to hear what would happen to the Sneasel. As Jarre looked at it firmly, he raised his head once more.
“Darkrai has your soul now. You’re cursed to your very core, Torchic. And I will always remember your seething rage as I die before your talons, never saying a word!” He managed a meek grin and clenched his claws. “Go on…kill me!”
Jarre paused in shock. “I prefer a more tortured approach!”
Jarre’s voice had truly reached madness. He screeched and started to pull a talon from the Sneasel’s body. A rippling, sucking sound ensued. It screamed in agony as flesh ripped away from it’s chest, covering Jarre’s foot in slippery red blood. The manic look on the Torchic’s face held my eyes as matted fur and flesh stuck to his talons. The Sneasel was now almost unconscious, it’s face twisted in pain. Just as Jarre began to draw out the other foot, I felt a jerk. My consciousness was slipping.
I reeled back and my eyes were torn away from the death scene. I put a paw to my head and fell to the floor, the Sneasel’s last screams ringing in my ears. My vision blurred and I collapsed. The last thing I saw was the hazy red body of the Torchic still gripping vicelike to the grey figure. With a final jerk, my mind slipped from the images, the screaming stopped and my world turned black.
Last edited by Gem N Ems; 07-03-2008 at 02:49 AM.