Dananananana!!! Now presenting Chapter 2! *Confetti falls from the ceiling* Read, review, and enjoy the chapter! :)
Chapter 2
"Come on, keep it moving! Let's go, let's go!" Commander Hart shouted in a gruff, loud voice. He walked backwards, waving his large arms at the hundreds of identically dressed soldiers as they marched out of their base camp at Oreburgh City.
"Let's go! Let's go! We don't have all day!" He continued to shout at the men, as though they were all hard of hearing.
Up above, the blazing afternoon sun beamed its white-hot rays on the soldiers' heads. Not one of the soldiers complained. Down below their feet, the gravel was loose and squishy from the previous night's storm. Not one of them tripped. Each step was in total rhythm with the next.
shloop, shloop
shloop, shloop
If even one of the shloops were out of beat, that unlucky soldier would be pulled out of the group and given pushups – usually somewhere in between 100 and 170. The commander often walked beside the marching army squad to 'inspect' for any flaws in a specific soldier's way of dressing and/or marching. Commander Hart had very sharp eyes that could spot the slightest thing wrong with a soldier, from the way a boot was tied to the way a gun was held. This peculiar trait, among many others the commander possessed, caused most of the army to develop a secret loathing for the large, red-haired man. One such soldier was a young man named Dalton.
He was a moderately tall man, with short, yellow-blond hair that was almost completely covered by his helmet. He wasn't as muscular as most of the other men in his group, but knew quite a lot in terms of combat and weapons, being one of the most experienced soldiers in the squad. His experience helped him out in other ways too, for he didn't get tired as easily while marching as he had in his first few weeks.
Suddenly, an unexpected shout had erupted from somewhere near Dalton, and caught the young soldier by surprise.
"PALMER!"
The commander's booming scream sent chills down Dalton's spine, despite the fact that he was actually addressing one of the newer soldiers, Bret Palmer. Bret was one of Dalton's closer friends, and was constantly being picked on by the commander for his disorganization and 'improper' aim-and-shoot techniques.
"Gah! Uh, I mean… Sir, yes sir!" Bret raised his left arm wearily in an attempted salute. The entire army had ceased marching, and all eyes were on him.
After a few awkward moments of silence, Commander Hart sighed. "Palmer, Palmer, Palmer." His voice had a blend of disappointment and false cheerfulness, with a touch of humor sprinkled on top.
"How many times have I reminded you of the proper boot-tying method? I WANT A PERFECTLY EVEN BOW ON THAT KNOT, NOT A GIMUNGOUS WAD OF STRING!"
Dalton could not help but suppress a chuckle at this.
Gimungous? Ha! That's not even a word!
"You should be ashamed of yourself! Tying your shoe wrong… That's the skill we all learned in PRESCHOOL! Where were you all this time? Were you skipping class, Palmer? Eh? Were you skipping school while all the other good girls and boys were learning how to write their names and tie their shoes? I bet you were! What do you have to say to that?"
Bret lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Commander," he muttered plainly, with little remorse in his tone.
"I bet you are, Palmer. We'll see how you fare in battle!" With one last glare at Bret, he turned away and began his backward walk again.
"COME ON, COME ON! MOVE, YOU BUNCH OF LAZY NO-GOOD ANIMALS! MY GRANDMA CAN MOVE FASTER THAN YOU LOT OF COUCH POTATOES! AND SHE'S PARTIALLY PARALYZED!!! KEEP IT MOVING! KEEP IT MOVOING! I DID NOT TELL YOU TO STOP!"
Soon enough, the soldiers finally arrived in Route 203. Or, at least, what remained of it. Route 203 had gone from clean and beautiful to just below dumpster quality in less than a night. Downed trees, snapped twigs, and broken branches littered the scene. Random trash such as empty milk cartons, rags, soda cans, and toys were also scattered around here and there, covering the grass underneath completely. Dalton found it hard to believe that just a few days ago, children were skipping along the smooth pathway, moms and dads were sitting and relaxing on benches alongside the road, and pokemon were frolicking through the bushes.
"All right, you bunch of ladies!" Commander Hart mocked, snapping Dalton back to reality. "I will now tell you what you will do, where you will go, and when to do either one of those things. You will only go where I tell you to, nowhere else! You will do only what I tell you to do, nothing else! And you will only do things when I tell you to, no exceptions. Understood?" shouted the commander, crossing his muscular arms.
"SIR, YES SIR!" shouted all the soldiers in unison, saluting.
"Good…" The commander paced left to right, eying the nine neat rows of saluting men with squinting blue eyes. He glanced at the first row of soldiers, and stopped.
"I want all of you in the first row to go over there behind that tree over there," the commander said to the first nine men, pointing to a nearby palm tree lying on its side.
"Yes sir!" All the men saluted and marched to their designated spot.
And so it went on this way, with the commander shouting out positions and having them filled. He repeated this process with the rest of the rows, and pretty soon Dalton could see tiny heads popping out from under bushes, beside trees, and behind fallen logs. After quite a while, he reached the sixth row, where Dalton was standing. For a few moments, Commander hart paused to think, eyeing each of the saluting soldiers carefully, studying them. Finally, he clapped his hands together.
"Okay all of you men except for Dalton will be on the lookout for the pokemon. You will stand right here in the middle of the pathway," Commander Hart pointed to the ground beside him. "Yes, you will do so in the middle right here, where the pokemon will see you!" he added, after one of the men next to Dalton gave an uneasy squirm.
"When you think Darkrai has arrived, you give me a signal and jump into a bush, or behind a tree. I don't care where you hide! Just make sure the pokemon doesn't get a glimpse of you."
"Yes sir!" the men saluted.
"And as for you, Dalton," the commander turned, looking Dalton in the eye, "You will be all the way over there behind that big log down there."
The commander pointed east to a medium-sized log that had once been part of an oak tree. It looked as if it was barely big enough for Dalton to crawl behind.
What the heck? What use would I be all the way down there? Oh well… the commander did always have a knack for making me do all the dirty work…
As if reading his mind, the commander instantly said, "Do you know why, Dalton?"
Dalton shrugged. "No, sir."
"You will be there to shoot Darkrai in the event that it comes running away in your direction. That way, we won't lose it like we did last time. Understood?"
Dalton saluted. "Yes sir!"
"Good."
The commander walked off.
Well, this should be easy, Dalton thought to himself as he started for his log. But little did he know, it was going to be far from easy.
First off, the log provided less cover for Dalton than he first thought. He had to literally crouch down on his stomach to keep his helmet from poking out from the top of the log. Soon, his legs became cramped from his crouched position, although he couldn't do anything about it. Second, it was right in the middle of the pathway, and there were no other downed trees or debris around it for Dalton to hide behind in the event that Darkrai spotted him behind the log. His fate lied in Darkrai's hands, hands that he could not trust.
The commander must really hate me. Dalton thought, as he wiped some drops of sweat from his forehead.
His only hope was that Darkrai would move off to somewhere else and that they would be forced to go back to base and plan for another mission.
Nah, what are the odds? he reasoned, although he secretly wished that Darkrai would miss them. With a sigh, Dalton kneeled behind the rotting log and readied his gun, hoping for the best.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, came a rushing Swooping sound.
"It's here, it's here! Fire at will!" came the commander's voice from far up ahead.
What? Dalton thought. Darkrai's here already?
He peeked through a small hole in the log. Although it wasn't big enough to see things clearly, it was his only way of seeing what was going on around him.
Sure enough, he could see a pitch-black pokemon up in the sky. Darkrai was hovering low on the ground, enough for Dalton to make out a spiky, bloody red 'necklace' around its neck. From the top of its head flowed a silvery white gaseous substance. Darkrai's back was turned, so he couldn't see much of it through the log's handy little peephole he had been looking through.
"FIIIIIRRRREEE!!" cried the commander's voice. At once, there were bullets flying in all directions at lightning speed, but the surprising thing was, that none of them seemed to be taking an effect on Darkrai. The pokemon remained motionless, simply hovering in one spot as the bullets whizzed past.
Why isn't Darkrai moving? Has it got something up its sleeve or what? Dang, the commander is gonna waste all his bullets if he doesn't stop the shooting… Can't he see that they're not even hurting it?
"KEEP ON SHOOTING! I MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT TELL YOU TO STOP!"
"Commander, we're running out of bullets! And the pokemon's not even showing any signs of submission!" came another voice. "What should we do?"
"I did not give the order to stop shooting!" came the commander's furious shout. "WE WILL KEEP ON SHOOTING UNTIL THAT THING IS DOWN, HEAR ME?"
But Darkrai refused to go down. In fact, it refused to do anything. It was just calmly floating there without lifting a finger, while the speeding bullets sped right through its body, as if it were made up of air.
Dalton took a deep breath, and sank lower and lower behind his log. He knew perfectly well that it would be impossible to conquer this pokemon, though this idea tore him apart bit by bit. Atom by atom. When suddenly,
BANG! Whoooosh…..
The roaring sound of the last bullet being fired tore through the sky, and through Dalton's heart. It was all over. The army was virtually defenseless. And Dalton, behind his little log, would face the same fate as the rest of them… the rest of the failing armies… He would be nothing but a failed attempt at something another would eventually succeed at. A mere memory, gone and left behind in the dust while another's would live on forever. Tears welled up in Dalton's eyes at the thought of this. It wasn't fair.
"Commander! We should retreat immediately, before it attacks back!" came a voice. Dalton recognized it as Bret's.
Without hesitation, the commander yelled, "RETREAT! EVERYONE BACK TO BASE!"
But before anybody could do anything else, Darkrai fired.
It was one of the most impressive, perfectly aimed shots Dalton had ever seen fired. A sphere of swirling purple and black formed from Darkrai's hand, and was hurled like a softball to the bushes beyond. A series of piercing screams erupted from the targeted area. Dalton's heart was racing. He could feel it pounding against his chest like a caged lion.
What is going on?
Darkrai continued to fire its attacks at every single place the soldiers were hidden, which were followed by more and more screams, until finally, the route was in dead silence. Thick brown smoke hung in the air, clogging up Dalton's nose and throat. He dared not to cough, for a single noise would probably cost him his life. Through the peephole, Dalton saw Darkrai's head turning to Dalton's log. His heart skipped a beat as those frosty blue eyes glared at him, almost like tiny floodlights in a sandstorm.
Oh no…
All Dalton could do now was hope for the best. Darkrai was drawing nearer and nearer. Dalton grabbed his gun lying beside him. This was his only chance. Surprising himself, Dalton jumped up to his feet and pointed his gun directly at the pokemon just when it was no more than a foot away from him.
Darkrai didn't react. It just stared at him with its fierce eyes fixed directly at his dark brown eyes. Dalton felt himself unable to look away from Darkrai's gaze. He felt his gun slowly slip away from his hand and crash onto the ground.
- - - - - -
Human… Worthless human…
The pokemon watched as the man fell to the ground, engulfed in a deadly sleep. His weapon lay a few feet away from him. Without warning, the pokemon vanished, bringing the man along with it.
You will pay… You all will pay…
