Nightslice yawned and leaned the back of his dinosaur-shaped head against the wall. His shoulders ached as much as his wings and feet.

The Scyther took one look at the expression on Kris’ face and immediately berated himself for think that.

The lights in the main hall of the Pokemon center had all been dimmed as it was around 3 in the morning. Only the bright red glow of the ‘Emergency’ sign penetrated the darkness. Kris looked up at the glowing sign again and took a sip of coffee.

Sitting with his legs crossed, Nightslice shifted slightly so he could fold his wings down and lean against the wall. He brought his sword-like claws up and crossed them in an ‘X’ in front of his chest. He closed his eyes and held his head down. He kept telling himself that he was meditating and not dozing off, but it was easier said than done.

Kris looked determined to stay up the whole night to wait for Firestorm to get out of the emergency room and she was just a human.

Nightslice’s latest action was to prevent him from dozing off again. He let his mind wander, recalling landing on the shore and spotting the dim lights of Lavender Town in the distance. Time had seemed to come to a standstill as he dragged his exhausted body, along with Firestorm’s additional weight to the far away lights. It had been completely dark when they’d reached the town, but luckily the Pokemon Center had a night watch Chansey. And they’d taken Firestorm to the emergency room, where’d he’d been for the past hour.

We got lucky. Yeah, really lucky…

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Nightslice awoke with the golden rays of sunlight streaming down into his face. Darn, he’d fallen asleep!

"Oh good, you’re awake." Said Nurse Joy, coming over, "I glad to tell you that you’re friend is just fine. He’s in room 12 along with your trainer. Better go see them."

"Scy…" Nightslice staggered groggily to his feet.

"Here, this should help."

"Like it? It’s a radish and turnip extract. My own recipe." Nurse Joy winked, "Would you like some more?"

"ScyScy! Ther!"

Putting on the best smile he could muster, Nightslice waved his claws in front of himself to say no and quickly took off, trying not to be sick.

Man! Gross! I think I’m gonna puke.

He quickly found room 12 and stepped inside. Firestorm was lying on a bed, flaming tail slung over to one side and a large bunch of bandages around his chest area. Kris was sitting on the edge of the bed.

Firestorm cocked his head as Nightslice came in.

"Well, good afternoon Nightslice. Did you enjoy your stay in the corridor?"

"Shut up before I make you."

"You know," Kris said, "you two are going to kill each other some day."

"Yeah!" they replied in unison.

Kris sighed.

"Anyway," she continued, walking over to the window, "I was thinking of taking a hike down to Maiden’s Peak. I heard there was some festival going on there."

"Well, I’m there!" said Nightslice, "It’ll at least be better than sitting around the Center to watch Firestorm recover."

"You’re just so unappreciative of me, Nightslice. Anyway, just knock yourselves out. I’ll be alright here."

"You sure?" Kris asked.

"Just give me a week and I’ll be back in action!"

"Not till you’re fully recovered." Kris reminded him, "Take care! We’ll see you soon!"

Before leaving, Kris hung his leather Charizard jacket on the edge of the bed, leaving herself with her brown T-shirt and blue jeans.

"Just in case the heater fails and you get cold."

Firestorm made a salute with his three-fingered right claw as they parted.

Kris was leaving the Pokemon Center and walking onto the pavement when a man suddenly bumped into her, knocking her down.

"Hey! Watch it pal!"

The man didn’t answer or even look back and continued on his way as if nothing had happened.

"Not very friendly, is this town?" Nightslice remarked.

"…" Kris gave no reply.

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It wasn’t a long walk from Lavender Town. Soon, the pair found themselves on a hilltop looking down at a large fair. A huge stage had been set up in the middle of the area. Various booths and game stalls dotted the landscape as well.

"Sure looks like something’s going on there." Kris said.

"Yeah. You should go check it out." Nightslice replied.

"Aren’t you coming?"

"Nah, I think it’s more for humans. I’ll just wait at that beach over there."

"Won’t you get bored?"

"There are plenty of things I can do."

"Alright then, I’ll see you later." Kris waved and ran off.

Nightslice waited until she disappeared into the crowd, then opened his wings and flew over to the sandy beach. For a while, he paced up and down the seashore, amusing himself by snapping at the Shellders and Staryus in the rock pools.

That was until he got an aurora beam in the face.

He was beginning to regret not going with Kris when he came to a rocky cliff. He flew up to the top and stood there, watching the waves crashing onto the rocks below. Nightslice felt to cool sea breeze blowing as he spotted the crimson-red sun setting over the horizon. He closed his eyes. This scene felt so…familiar…somehow.

His eyes snapped open. That phrase seemed familiar too, not something which had just popped into his mind.

Bits and pieces of my past? Just fragments? Nightslice wondered, The more I think about it, the sadder I feel.

Kris returned just as the sun as beginning to set. She wandered along the beach until she spotted him standing at the top of a rocky cliff. Kris was about to call out, but suddenly had the urge to keep her mouth shut.

His shadowy figure was silhouetted against the orange glow of the setting sun. Then he began to move. Slowly at first, stepping into a combat stance and launching a few slow slashes and kicks.

His actions sped up, adding in several back flips and summersaults, then aerial displays of kicks and slashes. Soon, he was in a frenzy, moving about with lightning speed as if attacking an invisible foe.

With his own Scyther techniques combined with human martial arts, it was a mesmerizing performance. Each move was not a random step, but part of a sequence which continuously repeated itself.

As sun’s rays grew dimmer, his actions slowed and became calmer until he slowly brought his bladed claws up and crossed them over his chest.

Kris realized she’d been standing there watching the whole time. She waited for a almost an hour longer as Nightslice stood absolutely still, not even the least bothered by the winds around him.

Kris then climbed up to the top and shook his shoulder.

"Nightslice."

"Huh?! Oh, Kris!" came the startled reply, "Were you watching the entire time?"

"It was…" Kris struggled to come up with a word, "absolutely fantastic. Where’d you learn that?"

"I wish I knew." Nightslice lowered his voice to a whisper. "But I’m sure I used to do this very often, in a place very much like this."

Kris placed a hand on his wing.

"I promise to help you rediscover your past, no matter what it takes."

"I know you do." He turned his dinosaur head and stared up to the stars. "Someday…"

"So, did ya find anything interesting?" Nightslice asked.

They were walking through the darkened fairground. Most of the stores were closed at this hour at night.

"Other then that I met Ash and company there, nope. At least I know they’re all right, especially after the St. Anne’s sinking."

As the pair walked past a building marked arts museum, they happened to over hear a conversation between a sculptor and Officer Jenny.

"Oh, this is terrible!" moaned the sculptor, "That’s the third piece of my precious work that’s been stolen!"

"I’m really sorry sir," Jenny replied, "we’re trying our best. But we just can’t seem to get em’ in action. They seem to have all sorts of ways to break through the security system."

"What can I do?! How can I make a living like this?!"

Kris walked past at first, but then snapped her fingers and ran back.

"Excuse me for interrupting," Kris said, "but I happened to overhear. Why not try a decoy and lie in wait for the thieves?"

"Unfortunately young lady," Jenny replied, "we tired that once, but the thieves pulled a fast one on us and made off with both the phony and the real one in the storage room."

"Actually, I meant a living decoy."

"Huh?"

Kris turned to the sculptor.

"You think the public would be surprised if you came up with another piece of art in say a week?"

The old man scratched his bald head and shifted his glasses.

"Not really. I work on my projects all the time without showing them to the public. I’m sure they wouldn’t be surprised if I came up with one tomorrow."

"That’s perfect. Here’s my idea…" she bent close and whispered to the two people.

Nightslice, meanwhile, was getting bored and walked over to the side to sit down on the pavement. He caught a few words like ‘decoy’ and ‘statue’, but didn’t hear much else.

Finally the group stood back up.

"That’s a brilliant idea," the sculptor smiled, "but do you think he can pull it off."

"It’ll be difficult." Jenny said.

"True, but I’ve seen him stand completely motionless for around an hour or so. All he needs is a little practice."

Nightslice yawned. What did he care about a bunch of stolen artwork?

That was when he noticed everyone was staring at him.

"Scy?" < Me? >

Nightslice jumped up and begun backing up and waving his claws.

"Scy. Scy. Scyyyyther!" < No. No. Noooo way! >

From the look on Kris’ face, he knew that whatever she had in mind, he wouldn’t like it. Not even one bit.

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"Scccy, scy, sachoo!" Nightslice sneezed.

"Hey, quit it! Just a little more…" Kris muttered, "there, done!"

Kris put down her painting brush.

"Simply magnificent!" gasped the sculptor, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses.

Nightslice made a long, low-pitched moaning sound.

"What was that?"

"He’s complaining that he feels like an ancient antique." Kris translated.

"Well, tell him he certainly looks like one."

"Nightslice, you really should see yourself in the mirror!" Kris pulled a full-length mirror in front of him.

The Scyther groaned.

His entire body had been carefully painted a dark-gray color. He’d also been powdered several times and had the outer layer coated with some chemicals that gave it the feel and look of stone.

Kris’ plan had been surprisingly simple. Dress Nightslice up and get him to pose as a statue, then wait for the thieves to strike and nab em’ when they least expect it.

Nightslice, of course, had several problems. He kept sneezing and scratching whenever the paint and powder was put onto him. It had taken him over a week to get used to the feeling and perfect his skill at standing perfectly still. Now, they were just about ready to go.

Officer Jenny had played her part too by keeping the public out of the sculptor’s workplace and assuring the crowd that they had stepped up on their security measures. The police officer entered the room.

"If you’re ready, let’s get this show on the road!"

Reluctantly, Nightslice stepped onto the pedestal. Kris secured his feet to the platform with several cleverly concealed straps. The sculptor was about to unravel his latest ‘masterpiece’ to the public, then have it moved to the museum for display.

Nightslice leaned close to Kris so only she could hear him.

"Man, you owe me big time for this!"

Kris only smiled and patted him on the shoulder. After which, he assumed his required pose; in a battle stance, with his blades crossed over his chest, head looking downwards and eyes closed.

With his eyes closed, Nightslice could only listen to the noise of his surroundings. Not like there was much to hear. The sculptor gave a speech about his newest piece of ‘artwork’ and Officer Jenny said a few words as well.

Then he felt the pedestal being delicately moved to the museum. At first, there were all sorts of sounds from the visitors. Slowly, they begun to die down until all was quite. When Nightslice heard the front doors being slammed shut, he knew that it was nightfall. And time to be on the alert.

Hours passed. Nightslice struggled desperately to keep from falling asleep on his feet. He was wondering whether the thieves were stupid enough to strike the same place again when he heard a scraping sound, followed by a soft clang to metal bars being shifted.

That could only mean one thing. Intruders entering from the roof.

Hmmm, this could get interesting after all.

Taking occasional peeks, he watched with interest as the group of four went about their work. Two were quietly enlarging the hole they’d made in the roof while the remaining members disabled the alarms by cutting several wires. The place remained as silent as a tomb throughout.

There were certainly professionals.

He’d been told that the thieves used different methods each time. From the ropes being thrown down around him, Nightslice guessed that they were trying to lift the ‘statue’ out through the roof.

Two of the thieves were pulling the ropes closer to the ‘statue’ when it suddenly came to life and slammed their heads into each other, knocking them out cold. The other two on the roof panicked and ran.

They scrambled down the roof only to find half a dozen police officers waiting there for them.

"Great job!" Jenny shook hands with Kris, "The police could certainly use more people like you!"

"I appreciate it," Kris replied, "but he’s the one you should thank."

She signaled Nightslice, who was now washing the paint off himself in a nearby stream.

"My work has been saved!" the sculptor cried happily, "Oh thank you so much!"

"Hey, it was nothing."

"Nothing? I absolutely must reward you."

"No sir, that’s really not necessary."

Predicting that it would carry on for quite a while, Nightslice didn’t stick around to listen. After he was done washing himself, he shook his body dry and curled up under a tree for a well-deserved rest.

He didn’t even care that the grass was wet and cold. The exhaustion was overwhelming.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The next morning, the pair started on the road back to Lavender Town. It had been slightly more than a week since they’d left Firestorm there.

"So, what’d we get out of that?" asked Nightslice.

"Some funds, a lot of praise and this Pokemon." Kris held up a Pokeball, "Pokeball, go."

There was a bright flash of light and a small brown creature appeared.

"Vee!" it smiled, its ears straightening up.

"Isn’t that an Eevee?"

"Yeah. The old guy said he’d gotten it as a birthday present from his son. He decided that he was too old and busy for Pokemon training and insisted on having me take it."

"Well that’s lucky. Eevee had some pretty neat evolved forms and…hey!"

"Veee!" Eevee was nuzzling Nightslice’s foot.

"Look’s like he likes you."

Nightslice knelt down and let Eevee climb up his blades and onto his shoulder.

"And by the way Kris, since I practically did most of the work, shouldn’t I get some kind of reward?"

"Most of the work? I had such a hard time getting you to co-operate!"

"That’s how I am, Kris." The Scyther shrugged his shoulders and grinned, "Hey, I got it! How bout I get to keep this little guy here?"

"Veeee!" Eevee was licking his face.

"Hmmm, I don’t know," Kris said thoughtfully, "a Pokemon Pokemon trainer?"

"Hey, I caught that Onix back at the rock cave. If I can catch, I can train. Besides, you know I love challenges."

"Alright," Kris submitted, "I just don’t see how you’re going to hold a Pokeball with those blades of yours."

Nightslice grabbed Eevee’s Pokeball in his mouth and waved it in front of Kris.

"Zeee," he mumbled with his mouth full, "I zan manage it."

"I had to ask." Kris sighed.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

They returned to the Pokemon Center in Lavender only to find Firestorm gone. Nurse Joy mentioned that he’d gone with Mr. Fuji, the chairman of the local community center.

"Great, that’s just typical of him." Nightslice said as they left.

"Doesn’t that remind you of…someone?"

"Hey, he’s such a rebel," Nightslice protested, "Me? I always follow orders."

"Idiot!" Kris whacked him on the head.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

A light drizzle came up as they were outside searching for the community center. It started getting heavier and they were forced to duck into a sheltered alley.

"Maybe you should try asking for directions." Nightslice suggested.

"Yeah, I think I should." Kris noted that she hadn’t seen many people about.

"Em, excuse me…" she asked a passer-by, "I’m…"

The person walked right past her without even looking in her direction.

"Ok, let’s try that again." Kris waved to the next person who passed by, "Excuse me…"

The man shoved her out of the way and continued on without looking back.

"That seems to be the response everyone in town’s giving." Nightslice commented, helping her up.

"It seems even worse that when we were here last week." Kris muttered.

"Slaves to their own suspicions, that’s what they’ve become." Came a voice form behind them.

Kris and Nightslice jumped. They turned around to find a white haired old man.

"Whoa," Kris said, "don’t scare us like that!"

The old man knelt down in front of something and crossed himself.

"Em, may I ask what you’re doing?" Kris asked.

"Ho, ho. Just paying my respects."

Kris leaned closer and saw a small altar had been set up at the side of the path. On it was a cross with the words, ‘Growlithe, May your spirit rest in peace.’

"…" Kris was silent for a moment, then she knelt down and crossed herself. Nightslice too, lowered his head as a sign of respect.

"Thank you. My beloved Pokemon lived to a ripe old age, but his time came at last." The old man warmly smiled, "Why don’t you come over to my place and I’ll get you a hot drink."

"I greatly appreciate that."

The old man was very friendly and in a way, reminded Kris of her old ninja master before he passed away. Kris listened with interest as he told her of the recent happenings in the small town.

"For years now, our town has been considered a spiritual gathering place for the souls of departed Pokemon. The Pokemon tower outside was built to honor these spirits and give them a place of rest." He pointed to a tall building outside.

"But that’s a cemetery, right?" Kris asked, "Why didn’t you build your memorial there?"

"Now, no one dares set foot there. For whenever we risk it, they appear."

"They?"

"The ghosts…"

Kris gasped. From his spot on the floor, Nightslice looked up with interest.

"I’m sure you’ve seen the fear in the townspeople. So terrified that they won’t even trust each other and even more for strangers."

"I understand." Kris let her sight wander across the room. It came to rest on an old photograph above the fireplace. It showed a middle-aged man holding a Growlithe in his hands.

"Is…that your Growlithe?" She asked, pointing to the photograph.

"So many years ago…" the old man pulled out a small photo album and let Kris flip through it.

"You must have really cared about it." Kris said softly. Right at the end, something in a picture caught her eye. "Firestorm!"

"You know that Charmeleon?"

"I’m his trainer. Wait a sec, you must be Mr. Fuji, right?"

"Oh yes, I completely forgot to introduce myself. Getting so forgetful these days."

Kris looked at the picture again. It showed Firestorm with Mr. Fuji.

"He happened to overhear me speaking with Nurse Joy at the Pokemon Center. I couldn’t understand what he was trying to say to me, so he simply grabbed a pen and wrote it down. Must have been very intelligent and well-trained to do that."

"What did he say?" Kris knew that Firestorm hadn’t risked speaking in English to old Mr. Fuji. It was a policy of Firestorm and Nightslice not to attract attention to themselves by doing so.

"He wanted to go and investigate the ghosts. I advised against it, but he was very insistent. The picture with me was taken just before he left so I wouldn’t forget to wait for his trainer. It’s been about a week since he entered the tower…and a recent times, no one who enters the tower has ever been seen again."

After that, there was a long silence. Kris didn’t want to think of what could’ve happened to her friend.

"It’s quite a lot to take in at once." Mr. Fuji took her hand, "It’s very late now, how about taking a rest and we can work up a plan in the morning."

"I guess you’re right…"

The two people left, leaving Nightslice alone in the room.

"Perhaps it’s late for you," he said to himself, "but for me, the night is still young."

He shot a glance at the dark forbidding tower outside, barely visible now due to the storm, which had turned into a downpour.

"I wasn’t named Nightslice for nothing…" he held a trembling bladed claw up to his face, which was basically a Scyther’s equivalent of clenching a fist.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Late that night, the Scyther quietly let Ivysaur out of his Pokeball.

"Sssaauuurr…" the grass Pokemon yawned.

"Ssshhh!" Nightslice slapped a foot over Ivysaur’s mouth, "Sorry bout using my foot, but it’s better than my claws right? Anyway, I need you to open the door for me."

"Ivysaur? Saur?"

"I would do it myself except my hands are built for cutting through things. Besides, that would cause a hell lot of racket if I simply barged through."

"Saur, saur, Ivysaur?"

"I going to check out the Pokemon Tower, I just know something’s up."

"Ivysaur!!!"

"I know, I know, ghosts come out at night. Well, I’m a creature of the night too."

"Saur, saur…"

"Yes I know, I’m disobeying orders again."

Ivysaur submitted and reached out with a vine. He turned the knob and the door silently slipped open. Nightslice was halfway out the door when he felt something tugging his foot.

"No, Eevee, you can’t come with me."

The little Pokemon’s ears flopped down. Nightslice gently used his head to shove Eevee back into the house.

"Ivysaur’ll take care of you. I’ll be back soon." With that, he pushed the door shut with a barely audible click.

"Veee?" Eevee asked. <Will he be ok? >

"Ivysaur. Ivy." Ivysaur replied. <I can only hope so. >

The thunderstorm had lightened to a small drizzle. Nightslice walked along the empty streets, lost in thought.

Nightslice took another look at the forbidding tower, now just ahead of him and quickened his pace.

The heavy doors creaked opened. Nightslice wasn’t easily scared, but even he felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

The place looked like it had been abandoned for months. The lights were out, cobwebs hung everywhere and water dripped from a nearby tap. The rhythmic pilp, plip, plip, of the water leaking onto the stone floor was enough to give him the creeps.

Nightslice ascended the stairs to the second level. Cautiously working his way between the rows of gravestones and altars, he stopped every few seconds to listen out for anything suspicious.

Silent as a tomb. Hey, wait! Nightslice sniffed the air. Seems…thick somehow.

Scyther normally had excellent eyesight adapted to nighttime conditions and could see much better than a human could in darkness. Strangely, his vision had been reduced to two feet or so. A thick fog seemed to linger around the area.

Suddenly, he noticed something moving in the distance. Heart pounding, Nightslice approached. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was only a Psyduck, but his tension immediately returned. There were more: a Slowbro, a Lickitung, a Tanglea, a Seel and several others.

"Eh, hey guys!" he said nervously, "What’s up?"

Outwardly, he was trying to keep calm. Inside, every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run. He begun to back away but found himself surrounded. Step by step, they approached until the closest one, the Psyduck, was a couple of steps in front of him. And the smell was getting worse.

It was then that Nightslice noticed something frighteningly wrong. It was so cold that he could see his own breath, but he saw none of that from the other Pokemon around. In the second it took him to comprehend that realization, the Psyduck lunged at him.

Nightslice didn’t even think before he fired off his pin missiles. The Pokemon was pushed back by the force of the attack, but seemed oblivious to the sharp needles piercing into its skin. A section of its skin fell off…revealing nothing but a white skeleton within.

"Z…z…z…zombies!!!!!"

Somersaulting over the zombified Psyduck, Nightslice raced for the center of the room…only to find himself completely surrounded.

"NO!" cold sweat trickled down his forehead.

A zombified Slowbro jumped straight at him. Screaming, Nightslice frantically slashed at it. There was a snapping of bones and the ripping sound of flesh as the body crumpled to the floor.

"What?!" Nightslice leaned over and examined it. It was just an empty, decomposing body. "But what’s making them move?"

He readied himself for another attack, but none came. All the ghosts were just standing there and loitering about. Nightslice found himself taking deep gulps of air and trying not to throw up.

Wait a minute! It’s easier to breathe here than over there. Looking around, he found that small area he was standing in was clear of fog. So, it’s this purple fog that’s controlling them!

Suddenly, there was an explosion of flames as several of the zombies were blown to pieces. Standing far behind the group of zombies was a familiar shape. Even in the distance, Nightslice could recognize his friend.

"Firestorm!" there was no mistaking it. His larger size, the glitter of his metal mask, and Kris’ Charizard leather jacket, which he was wearing. "Am I glad to see you! I thou…"

He never got to finish that sentence. Nightslice felt his chest explode with pain as a flamethrower attack hit him, throwing him head-over-heels and face-first into the far wall. Nightslice was briefly aware that he was back in the thick purple fog. He didn’t have time to react as his head was violently grabbed and slammed into the wall.

Completely dazed now, he was slowly lifted off the ground. Nightslice watched, as if in a dream, as the ground seemed to rush forward and strike him in the face.

Blackness.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

When Nightslice awoke, he immediately wished he were still unconscious. He was bound and gagged, jaws clamped shut by a thick rope and body firmly tied to a table. His blades were twisted at an odd angle and they were not in any position for him to cut through the ropes. The ropes were extremely tight and painful, making it hard to breathe.

"Mmmffffmmm!" Nightslice struggled, but couldn’t do more than make gagged sounds, wiggle his toes and shake his head about. He’d been positioned so his head was off the table. Craning his neck, he could see a wooden basket positioned directly beneath his head.

Heavy footsteps caused him to look up. Firestorm stepped into view. Now at close range, Nightslice could see that his friend’s eyes were glowing with an eerie white. The normally black iris was not visible at all.

He’s being controlled by this fog as well! Nightslice realized. He was thankful to note that he could see Firestorm’s breath like he could see his own. At least he’s just possessed, and not one of the walking dead…for now.

Firestorm’s actions were unnatural, almost mechanical like those of a robot. He walked to the nearby wall and pulled a long sword hanging there out of its sheath. Nightslice took another look at the basket beneath his head, glanced back to Firestorm, and then came to the horrifying realization.

Firestorm lumbered up to him, completely emotionless, and lifted the sword high up. A panicked Nightslice struggled in vain, succeeding only in coughing up muffled screams and shaking his head. Terrified, Nightslice watched his life flash before his eyes.

The blade came down.

NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The Scyther could do nothing but close his eyes and wait for the end.

Nightslice waited for the moment that all would end, but it never came. Finally, he risked opening one eye, then the other. The huge sword, held by Firestorm, was centimeters above his neck. Firestorm’s hand was trembling and Nightslice could feel the cold, steel blade on the skin of his throat. A slight twitch of his hand would send his head rolling.

In fact, Firestorm’s whole body was shaking, trembling.

He’s trying to resist! Nightslice realized. He had a chance to save himself. It was now or never.

Nightslice rocked the table, putting all his weight to his shoulders and leaning back. It worked! This resulted in the table flipping over, knocking Firestorm down in the process. Nightslice’s world spun a complete 180 degrees, ending with him flat on his face. The old, wooden table shattered with a loud snap as pieces of wood flew everywhere.

Shaking the ropes off, Nightslice kicked the broken pieces out of his way and ran for the only door in sight. The Scyther got two steps before a blast of flames charred his back. His brain barely had time to register the pain before he was barged through the door, shattering it to fragments.

Nightslice hardly felt the tons of splinters pierced into his body. He was in too much pain already. Nightslice forced himself to his feet, as he needed to defend himself. The square room offered no help, nor any easily accessible escape route.

Nightslice used a double team, creating multiple mirror images of himself. Firestorm charged through one of the illusions and hit the floor hard. For the speed and rage at which the Charmeleon sprang to his feet, Nightslice felt that he wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice.

And basically, he knew he was screwed. Big time too.

Firestorm attacked mercilessly. Nightslice countered as best as he could, but in his weakened state, he took a large number of blows. The Scyther was being pushed towards a wall. Then, it happened that his foot stepped into a crack.

This caused him to stumble and immediately had an uppercut thrust into the bottom of his chin. Nightslice saw stars as his head hit the stone wall with full force. He felt the salty taste of his own blood in his mouth as much as saw the red liquid it seep down to his eyes. In his blurred vision, he saw Firestorm rushing in for the kill.

Nightslice blocked one blow, then another. But his strength failed him at the last moment. Firestorm slashed him across the face, leaving a bloody, three clawed mark.

His scream rang throughout the tower.

Seeing his own blood stain the wall, Nightslice cursed his stupidity. Kris always said that his rashness would land him in serious trouble if left unchecked. Now, he was going to pay for it with his life.

Firestorm grabbed one of his bladed claws and spun him over onto his back, twisting the arm at an awkward angle.

Then his foot came down upon the twisted arm.

The snap of the bone was frighteningly loud.

The pain, the agony, it was overwhelming. Nightslice didn’t even have the energy to scream. He was unable to resist as Firestorm repeated the process with his other arm.

Slowly, Nightslice became aware that he was lying facedown on the cold floor. In his bloodstained vision, he saw Firestorm backing off, lowering his chest to the ground and lifting up his tail. The Charmeleon was preparing to launch a Fire Spin. Nightslice thrust the last of his strength to his voice.

"Firestorm…pl…please…no…"

The next second, his world was engulfed by a flaming tornado of pain. His scream echoed in his ears. On and on, there seemed to be no end.

Finally, when he could absolutely take no more, it stopped.

Firestorm viciously shook his head. As he did, the white glow in his eyes disappeared and his eyes returned to their normal color. The fogginess slowly faded out of his head and he became aware of the battered and barely alive figure on the floor in front of him.

"Nightslice!!!!! NO!!!!" Firestorm rushed to the side of the fallen Pokemon and gently cradled his head in his claws.

"Speak to me! Please! Say something!" Firestorm shook his friend.

"Y…you…came through…for me."

"Hang in there!" Firestorm carried him back into the room with the shattered table. He tore down a curtain and lay his comrade’s body on it. Tearing a few strips, he bandaged Nightslice’s bleeding face and the wound in his chest.

"…It…pain…" that was no more than a whisper.

Firestorm leaned close to his friend.

"I promise. I’ll get you out of here no matter what. Just as soon as I take care of the bastard that made me do this to you. Hang on, I’ll be back soon."

Nightslice heard his footsteps fade. The makeshift bandage on his head left only part of his right eye exposed. As he leaned his head back, Nightslice noticed an odd stone tablet inches away. There were some words engraved on the tablet. They seemed to be in a foreign language.

They seemed so familiar, like he’d seen them before and yet couldn’t remember how to read them. He didn’t have any more time to think about it. Unconsciousness stole his thoughts away.

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Firestorm paused only to grab the huge sword he’d been using and stick it into his belt strap. After which, he took the steps three at a time, dashing up the spiral staircase. It was just one floor up to the top of the tower. The upper room was an elongated hallway, leading to a dead end. It seemed empty, but Firestorm knew better. He wouldn’t make the same mistake as last time.

"Coward! Come out and face me!"

"Hahahahhahahahaha!" Out of nowhere came a sinister laugh. A figure stepped out from the shadows. It was a human dressed in a completely black uniform with an ‘R’ on it. Firestorm recognized him immediately.

"Aaron!"

"Hahahaha! That’s right, but no motto today. I’m all alone you see." Aaron laughed throwing back his dark hair.

"When did you ever learn black magic?"

"Black magic? No, just a combination of technology and my Pokemon here."

An odd shape materialized next to him.

"Gastly." The ghost Pokemon said.

"Why all this?" Firestorm asked.

"Don’t you think a team of evil doers could build a base of operations without these annoying interruptions." Aaron proudly replied.

"This tower?!"

"Ah, such a splendid location. Perfect for us since the townsfolk blame everything suspicious on ghosts."

"Not if I have a say in this!" Firestorm roared, launching a flamethrower.

Both Aaron and the Gastly vanished before the flames hit them.

"What?!" Firestorm gasped, "A hologram?"

"I must compliment you for being able to break Gastly’s hold over you," Aaron’s voice came from nowhere in particular, "if you’d just stayed as my slave, you wouldn’t have to die now."

"SsssssssArbok!" A huge cobra appeared in a flash of light. And this one wasn’t a hologram.

"Uh oh!" Firestorm dove away as Arbok sprayed its acid, the corrosive liquid eating away the surface of the stone floor with a loud hissing sound. The Charmeleon ran for the steps. A familiar-looking shadow appeared from the stairway.

"Nightslice? What…"

"Ssccyyther!"

Firestorm managed to dodge the slashes and trip his opponent. This one wasn’t Nightslice, but Aaron’s Scyther.

Aaron’s controlling his Pokemon from a distance, Firestorm thought as he ran, and that means…

Aaron’s Scyther was suddenly in front of him, having somersaulted over him in the narrow stairway. Firestorm quickly kicked him down several steps and ran back up. Back towards Arbok.

Arbok came slithering towards him. Firestorm launched a reflect attack, creating a mirror-like shield on front of himself. Arbok hit it with a loud thud.

Outside, a Golbat was holding Aaron, by his shoulders, in the air. The Rocket agent hardly minded the light drizzle as he was in a rather jubilant mood today. Aaron watched the fight with interest through a hand-held view screen. The picture now showed Firestorm using his reflect defense to repel Arbok’s attack.

"Ha! That won’t stop Arbok’s acid!"

He pushed a button on the side of the small screen.

"Arbok, acid attack!" He ordered.

The opponent was caught off guard, taking a direct hit. Aaron laughed as he watched the figure scream and wiggle in pain. Arbok’s acid was highly corrosive, after all.

"Hahahaha!" Aaron laughed in triumph.

He good mood was then abruptly shattered when the screen showed his Arbok being sliced in half.

"What?!"

He furiously pushed the button.

"Scyther! Where are you?!"

There was no reply.

"Argh! Dammit!" Aaron gritted his teeth and crushed the small view screen in a fit of anger. All his weeks of precise planning had just been wasted. His plans were completely ruined. Not just that, he’d lost two Pokemon.

"I won’t forget this, you fools!" he cursed. "Gastly!"

The gas Pokemon appeared hovering in front of him, giving Golbat a slight scare.

"Gastly!" It said in its spooky voice.

"We shall withdraw, for now…"

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"Flawless victory." Firestorm smiled. He stared down at the bloodstained sword in his claws. "Fatality." he added in as an after thought.

Firestorm then threw the sword across the room. There was a loud clang on metal against stone when it landed, then absolute silence.

As silent as his enemies in the room.

Firestorm admired his handiwork, the neatly divided Arbok. Its head and top part had been separated from the rest of its body by an well-aimed sword blow. The Charmeleon winced at the smell of the dead cobra’s body fluids, mixed with acid from its own acid sacs.

"Yuck!" he muttered.

He stepped across the body, being extra careful not to step on it or any of the fluids emerging from it, and searched for the Scyther. He found it, lying motionless, in a far corner of the room.

When Arbok had sprayed its acid, it hadn’t hit Firestorm but Scyther instead. The thing had run about like a crazed lunatic while the acid ate into its flesh, screaming the whole time. Firestorm was thankful that it had stopped, but decided he didn’t want to go to the extent of examining its body. Grimacing at the thought of having to look at a body half-melted by concentrated acid, Firestorm hurriedly left the room and returned to where he’d left Nightslice.

He’d almost panicked when Nightslice didn’t respond to his call, but his tension eased when he saw the Scyther’s chest rising and falling. Hoisting his wounded friend gently over his shoulder, Firestorm begun the long descend of the tower.

After all, he’d spent enough time in the company of death.

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Nightslice was awakened by a beam on sunlight shinning into his eyes. Immediately, he noticed Firestorm standing over him. The Charmeleon still had the Charizard jacket on, which he’d been wearing since the previous night. Nightslice could still make out the bloodstains on it. They were in a well-furnished room, which Nightslice recognized as one of the wards in the Pokemon Center.

"Hey pal…" he managed, attempting to lift his head.

"Hey yourself." Firestorm gently pushed him back down. "You’ve got two broken arms and a claw wound at your chest. Not to mention that scar across your face. You need to rest."

Nightslice studied the two plaster casts his arms were encased in, then turned back to Firestorm.

"At least I’m alive."

"Well, I almost…" Firestorm hung his head in shame.

"Don’t blame yourself, it wasn’t you who did all this. But you came through for me. Thanks."

"You…really mean that?"

"I wouldn’t lie about this sort of thing, now would I? Besides, it’s kinda nice to see your true fighting potential if you don‘t hold back anything."

"Guess so. Anyway, try and eat something." Firestorm dipped a spoon into a bowl and lifted it up. "Open wide."

Nightslice was reluctant to let himself be fed like a hatchling, especially by a comrade in arms, but eventually he submitted.

"You know," he said between mouthfuls, "I think you’re rather good at this."

"Be quiet." Firestorm muttered, rather annoyed.

"Hey come on’, its…grrrrfffuuummmpp!" Nightslice had a whole apple thrust into his wide, open mouth. His fangs got caught in the apple and he was unable to spit it out.

The Scyther could only make muffled sounds while Firestorm laughed.

Kris was watching the scene from a window outside on the street. Inwardly, she smiled. The friendship between these two had once again gotten them out of trouble and safely back to her.

Kris was suddenly tapped on the shoulder and spun round to find Mr. Fuji.

"There you are!" the old man chuckled, "I’ve been looking everywhere for you."

He pointed to the street, which was now crowded with people talking excitedly.

"Thanks to you, this town had a life again." He continued. The townsfolk had realized their mistakes and were going about apologizing and making up. "And my little one will rest easy at last."

He closed his eyes, remembering his Growlithe.

"I appreciate it," Kris replied, "but they’re the ones you should really be thanking."

She indicated Firestorm and Nightslice, two inseparable partners, laughing inside the room.

"Certainly, these two are extraordinary Pokemon," Mr. Fuji patted Kris on the shoulder, "All of you have a bright future ahead."

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Night fell on the Pokemon tower. The clean up crews had already left, having cleared away and buried all the dead Pokemon bodies that had been upset by the incident.

All was silent, as it should’ve been late at night, bar a soft scrapping.

On the second floor from the top, in the fourth row of gravestones, at the fifth grave, something moved. The stones that covered a coffin began to shake and tremble. Again and again they moved.

Then, a bladed claw burst out from beneath, followed by a head. A Scyther rose from the grave, disfigured by acid, wounded, but alive.

He then saw his reflection in a mirror and roared in anger.

There was no other living being in range to hear his tormented cries.

Revenge! Vengeance! Those were the only thoughts on his mind, Yes! They will suffer! All of them!