A/N: Phew! Finally done with this chapter. Sorry it took so long to get it posted. I know it’s been like two or three weeks, but this is also a longer chapter. Before getting started I want to thank dbzgtfan2004, Dark Light, and Kgmck-117 for their reviews. This chapter is for you guys.

 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Pokemon, etc, blah blah blah. Point and case, don’t sue. I have no money anyways.

 

DARK SHADOWS

 

CHAPTER XI: BITTER DREAMS

 

Ash stood atop the Pokemon Tower. The rain still poured down, if not harder than before. A wind was now picking up and blowing his black cloak all across the sky. He pulled it off and dropped it over the edge of the tower and watched it as it danced down until it was swallowed by the darkness. He just stood there, his fists clenched tightly. He could hear the screams, the roars, the gun shots, and even the spewing of blood. It was Hell on earth.

    

His gravest worry was that Misty was down there all by herself. She forbade his assistance, fearing that Ash would surely meet his fate in the climax of the war. There were multiple clans of lycans, several vampire covens...and demons. Hailen’s father was right all along. The demons came like thieves in the night and turned the last of Lavender Town’s population into possessed zombies.   

 

Suddenly, there was a loud screech that cracked over the rumble of the thunder. Ash gazed up at the moon that still shone its full face, even through the storm of the century that seemed to consume the entire atmosphere. A shadow eclipsed the center of the moon and the shadow darkened Lavender Town. But it wasn’t just a shadow. It was a silhouette of a creature...a creature that spread its wings.

    

Darkness seemed to grow the moment the creature’s silhouette appeared. Ash felt cold too. He could feel something pulling at his very mortality. The feeling only grew as the creature soared down to the town and skimmed the roof tops of the highest buildings. It was a bat! But not a Zubat or Golbat, but a massive creature with a wing span equivalent to that of Moltres. The gust of wind that came after the flap of its wings was enough to blow Ash off the Tower.

    

As Ash fell he was certain his life was over. Misty’s fear of losing Ash while being involved in the war was proven wrong. He in fact was killed standing out of it. The wind’s velocity twisted Ash’s body in every direction. All of his bones felt as though they had morphed into putty. The ground was getting nearer every millisecond, though he couldn’t tell that as he twirled and spun in midair. He figured his life would just end in the blink of an eye, but no, he kept falling until...

    

It was a fury, yet slightly leathery coat Ash’s body had fallen on. He lifted his face from the coat and saw two flapping wings at his sides. Apparently the bat had caught him on its back just before Ash would have splattered on the ground. But then the bat arched it back and flapped its mighty wings. Ash rolled off the creature’s back as it flew back up toward the sky. But the fall to the ground didn’t pain him all too much. It was at most a five foot fall. What hurt him the most was the pressure of the wind from the bat’s wings after it flailed them.

    

Ash was lying on his back in the middle of the street. He twisted his neck over to his right and jumped up at the sight of the decapitated human head that was staring directly into Ash’s eyes. The body was ten feet away from the head and blood and entrails were dangling from the severed neck. As soon as Ash was on his feet he noticed that the street was littered with human corpses and lycan and vampire carcasses. Blood was painted on the buildings, street, even on the trees and bushes. Empty bullet cases lay scattered along the road and sidewalk like sand on a beach. And there were bullet holes and talon marks everywhere. Even still the war was going on. Ash saw mortals and immortals alike slaughtering the others, dying, and screaming in agony.

    

As he was noticing the most grotesque sightings he noticed a beautiful woman with long, light purple hair, and wearing a light purple dress, walking down the center of the street toward him. Her purple eyes were so deep and powerful. There was obviously something about this woman. Maybe it was her purple eyes that seemed to glow from time to time, or her lack of fear of her surroundings, or perhaps it was the fact that no lycans or demons would touch her. In fact, whenever a vampire tried to slaughter her, a lycan or demon would intercept them and either decapitate them or turn them to dust with a form of light. Then, the woman stopped not more than twenty feet from Ash.

    

From behind him, Ash heard a mighty roar that shook the ground beneath his feet. The empty bullet cases rippled like water at the shrill sound. When he turned around he saw a massive beast with a thick orange and black striped pelt, and a tan tail and belly fur. The beast had savage yellow eyes that sliced through Ash’s mortality like a hot knife through butter. Pools of drool formed in the corners of its leather lips and dripped down to soak the ground. When it stopped not more than twenty feet from Ash it stood up on its hind legs and howled at the moon.

    

Next, Ash heard the eardrum shattering screech of the bat. He looked up at the sky and saw the creature descend gradually to his right. Ever so gently the bat touched its feet to the ground surface and spread out its wings, which were fanned out from its arms. Razor sharp talons gleamed in the vast moonlight, and the creature’s fangs grew three times their original size. Its eyes glowed like nothing Ash had ever seen. When he looked into those eyes he felt like a Stantler caught in the headlights of a truck.

    

The giant beast growled at the bat and in return the bat hissed and screeched. The woman’s eyes glowed a bright purple and her hair blew forward over the sides of her face. She outstretched her hands and a purple aura formed. A wind seemed to pick up from behind the woman and a thick cloud of dark purple soared down the street toward the four beings. Ash couldn’t believe his eyes. The cloud was made of Ghastly and Haunter.

    

Ash was well aware that he was in the presence of Immortals. He wasn’t dense enough to think he stood a chance as a mere Mortal. He looked all around through the war scene for his Valkyrie. There were dozens of vampires, humans, and even werewolves that were fighting in their human forms, yet he did not catch a glimpse of orange. But there was something about the battle that struck him as odd. Many of the werewolves and demons were all charging toward the Lavender Town Museum, leaving many of the vampires and other werewolves out of the picture. Ash again wasn’t dense enough to not catch what was going on. He knew that only one thing, or rather one immortal, would attract such a horde.

    

Roars of pain and agony bellowed as soon as the horde reached the building. There were gun shots, screams, hisses, and crashing, so Ash never thought Misty could hear him if he yelled. Then again, he was in a fatal predicament, therefore there was no reason not to try.

    

“Misty, help!”

    

Ash waited for only three seconds before he saw a small figure way out in the distance leap out of the horde to an undetermined height. Slowly the figure glided down closer and closer to Ash’s location. As the figure came closer its speed increased, and soon Misty crashed to one knee down to the tar road. The crimson tar cracked beneath her figure as she landed, sending chunks every which way. Soon her long, torn, bloodied, leather jacket caught up to her frame and wrapped itself around its owner. Impaled into the tar on Misty’s sides were two crimson sais.

    

At Misty’s arrival the woman lowered her hands and cocked her head at the vampire. The cloud of ghost pokemon was getting closer by the second so time was of the essence. Though the woman could take all the time she wanted, Misty knew she didn’t share that luxury with her. So as the two creatures lunged toward Ash, with talons outstretched and fangs ready to tear into fresh flesh, Misty shifted her weight to her feet and she sprung forward with lightning swift speed. Her figure became a black blur as she glided over the tar. After all she wasn’t running, but gliding.

    

Just before Misty reached Ash, she was stopped. Her glowing blue eyes scanned up the arm, of which was connected to the hand that was choking her, until she met the glare of the woman. Her grip was too tight, even for Misty, an immortal. The pain was incredible.

    

Ash could do nothing but watch on. The beast and the creature were nearing him, but he didn’t care about his certain death. He knew where he was going when he died, but what about Misty. The woman was obviously more powerful than Misty. When he tried to run toward Misty he was stopped as the woman thrust her hand at him. He looked down to his feet and saw that they had turned to stone.

    

“Ash!” Misty screamed. “Ash!”

    

“Misty!”

    

The woman grinned devilishly at Ash and then looked up into the abyss of Misty’s eyes. Her hair still whipped forward and the cloud of ghost pokemon was nearing. With one final breath the woman uttered to Misty, “Long live the legend of Maiden’s Peak!” And with that Misty turned to stone. Her eyes were the last to harden. As soon as the process was finished the woman dropped Misty to the ground with a loud thud that seemed to stop the war itself.

    

Ash couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman had turned Misty into stone. She was gone forever. There was no way to bring her back, not even him, because he wouldn’t be around anymore. And with his eyes glued to the statue of the woman he loved he was torn apart by the two beings.

    

**********

 

Ash suddenly sprang up. He was sweating profusely and breathing erratically. What he just experienced felt so real, but he had just woken up, therefore it was a dream. But it felt so real. Ash could have sworn he felt every-thing from the wind, to the rain, to the rumble of the thunder. But there was no way it could have been real. He was in fact in a small room, lying on a mattress. The bite of the cold air caused his body to shiver. It was then that he realized he wasn’t wearing any clothes. All that covered him was a thin white linen sheet. Clothes were everywhere in the room. His jacket was lying at the foot of the mattress, his shirt was beneath his pillow, and his pants were lying on top of a blue t-shirt.

    

Blue t-shirt? That wasn’t his. His shirt was beneath his pillow.

    

Ash swiftly snapped his neck to his left and saw a beautiful woman lying beside him. Her face was toward his. And just like his, her body was bare-the linen sheet did cover her though. It was wrapped snugly around her torso, starting just beneath her arms. She had a perfect figure; Ash remembered that from last night. He now remembered all the things they did to each other. Many of the things would even make Brock blush. While Ash continued staring at Misty a smile crept across his face. For years he dreamed of being so close to her, and last night he had, and even now he was right beside her. It was an invigorating feeling.

    

Feeling better about the dream Ash fell back onto the mattress and rested his hands behind his head. There was so much running through his mind. He thought about last night and how his and Misty’s relationship would be completely different now. They were once best friends, but now they were so much more. He was also thinking about Hailen and his relationship with her. He loved her; there was no doubt about that. But now his mind was telling him that he didn’t love her the way he loves Misty. Not everything however was about love. There was also the war and the fact that Misty was the very thing that Ash hunted down and killed. Misty meant too much to him. He wouldn’t hurt her and he wouldn’t let anyone else either. He would sooner choose exile.

    

Suddenly, Ash could feel the sheets being tugged away from his body. He looked back over to Misty and saw that she was stirring. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly and a soft moan escaped her pursed lips. Slowly she moved her hand from her hip to her head. Though her eyes were still closed Ash could see that Misty was awake by her movements. After running her fingers through her long black hair a few orange strands fell onto her nose and dangled freely. More and more orange color broke through. This woman beside him was beginning to look more like the old Misty. Then-he saw her eyes.

    

Gleaming with all the intensity of the ocean, her eyes had the power to domineer Ash’s body. Whenever he stared into her deep orbs he was enthralled. She was the only being who could control him so.

    

Being? A tear nearly escaped Ash’s hazel eyes when he thought that word through. That was another idea streaming through his already congested head. The woman he loved for years, the girl he had a crush on since before he even liked girls, couldn’t be labeled as a human being. The woman he was lying beside was one of the mythical immortal damned. She was cursed to walk the lonely road of immortality all alone...just to avenge Ash’s assumed death.

    

“Ash.” Misty moaned with a cracked, sleepy voice. “What’s the matter?”

    

“I’ve just been thinking about your future.” Misty’s face saddened.

    

“I don’t regret my decision. You shouldn’t either.”

    

“But I do. Because of me you’re a-”

    

“Stop blaming yourself. You didn’t make me choose immortality. It’s my curse and mine alone. There is no reason why you should have to suffer the same loneliness. Believe me, you don’t want this.”

    

“I would do anything to be with you.” Ash replied, placing his palms gently against Misty’s alabaster skin. He looked caringly into her eyes and smiled.

    

“You are with me.” Misty pushed Ash’s hands gently from her face and stared at him, worried. “But you won’t be with me if you keep going out every night. I can only protect you; I can’t fight a war for you.”

    

“I can handle myself. I survived four years without you watching over me.” Ash said cockily. Misty was beginning to get irritated after hearing his gloating.

    

“The only reason you survived was because the lycans weren’t hunting you down like they are now. You did something to them, I know it. You need to tell me what you did that caused an entire lycan horde to hunt you down.”

    

Ash took a deep breath. He remembered everything from that night. He just didn’t want to alarm Misty. Perhaps, as an immortal, she would know what it was that the lycans stole.

    

“I saw the werewolves break into the museum. They obviously found something with extreme power because the sky opened up and I saw a wolf in the face of the moon.”

    

“That’s where you were?” Misty stood up to her feet, holding the linen sheet over her body, and ran around the room grabbing her clothes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

    

“I didn’t have the time.” He watched Misty bolt around the room, picking up her web belt, gun holsters, Pokeballs, and finally her jacket. “Mist? What are you doing?”

    

“We’re going out.” She replied walking to the door with her clothing in hand. Before reaching for the door handle Misty rummaged through the dresser and pulled out a pair of pants and a dark shirt.

    

“What did the werewolves steal?”

    

Misty turned to face Ash. Her face was that of a dark grimace. “The key. Now get dressed. And wake Brock.” With that Misty closed the bedroom door behind her. The room fell into silence. Ash looked straight forward at the door that Misty had exited through. Staring at the door made him feel empty. But why? It was just a door. But the door was much more. The moment Misty closed the door behind her she ceased being Misty Waterflower and became a Vampire, the Immortal Damned, a Death Dealer, and Night Walker. Ash wondered if the door had such power over him.

    

It was going to be much easier for Ash to find his clothes because half of the attire was now with Misty in a different room. Ash easily found his black shirt and his tan pants. He put the articles of clothing on and then stepped over by the door to slip on his boots. Next, he walked across the hard floor, his boots clicking every time his heel made contact with the floor. He stopped at the foot of the mattress and bent down to lift his black coat. Finally, he wrapped his web belt that held his Pokeballs and his pistols around his waist and then marched toward the door.

    

Misty was still in the bathroom. ‘Still changing I guess.’ Ash thought. He moved across the hall to Brock and Pikachu’s room. He knocked on the door and waited with his ear against the door for Brock’s voice. Nothing. Ash knocked once more and there was still no reply.

    

“Brock? I’m coming in.” Ash turned the chrome door knob and pushed the door open. Brock and Pikachu were still fast asleep. They were both snoring. Then Ash saw why Brock or Pikahu didn’t hear the knocking on the door. Brock and Pikachu weren’t resting their heads on their pillows because their pillows were over their ears. “Brock!”

    

“Ah!” Brock jumped out of bed and rolled off onto the hard floor. He looked over the bed and glared at Ash. “What did you do that for?”

    

“You didn’t hear me knock.”

    

“Well how could I? I had the pillow over my ears.”

    

“Yeah, why is that?”

    

Brock shook his head. “Because Pikachu and I didn’t want to hear you and Misty last night.”

    

Ash’s face flushed. His eyes were the size of a Pokeball. “You heard...me and Misty?” he stammered.

    

“I don’t know who didn’t. You two even grossed me out. What were you doing anyways?”

    

“Er...”

    

“Forget it. I don’t want to know. It sounded really...hardcore though.”

    

“Hehe. Er, Misty and I are going out tonight. Get dressed. You’re coming with.”

    

“Where are we going?” Brock stood up and walked around the room, grabbing his own articles of clothing from the floor. He set them on the bed and looked at Ash.

    

Lavender Town Museum. The werewolves stole something from there. Come on Pikachu.” The trainer and the Pokemon walked out of the room, leaving Brock alone to get ready for the night’s dark festivities.

    

When Brock left his bedroom Ash was sitting up at the counter playing with one of his pistols. The slide was locked open, the silver ammunition clip was set on the counter, and Ash was trying to look down the barrel to see if his weapon was dirty.

    

“Where’s Misty?” Brock asked clipping his belt buckle.

    

“She’s in the bathroom changing.” Ash slapped his clip in the butt of the gun and locked the slide shut. “You changed fast.”

    

“She changed in the bathroom even though last night you two got it on?”

    

Ash locked up. He stared blankly to the door and blinked only once. “Er...”

    

Thankfully the pressure was uplifted when the bathroom door swung open. Misty stepped out, throwing her jacket over her head and letting it fall over her body. It was still opened so Ash, Brock, and Pikachu could see what she was wearing.

    

It wasn’t her usual outfit. Death Dealers were accustomed to wearing black leather bodysuits when they hunted. Misty, however, was wearing dark blue jeans and a dark purple shirt that hugged the curves of her torso. Brock noticed the top of her cleavage showing, and her pants were cut or worn in various places and showed through to her legs. Her boots were her own, steel toed to be exact. The black and orange strands of Misty’s hair hung straight down against her cheeks and cascaded behind her ears to finally fall over her shoulders.

    

“Took you long enough.” Brock replied haughtily. Misty saw a glimmer of jest hiding deep in Brock’s eyes. She responded with a slight smile. “What were you doing in there?”

    

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

    

“As a matter of fact,”

    

Misty smiled yet again and shook Brock’s words out of her head. Her hair waved over her pale, yet beautiful face. The black and orange strands assimilated flawlessly with her deep, blue orbs. The moment that she allowed her smile to creep across her stunning complexion, Ash felt his body heat up.

    

“Bad news,” Misty turned to Ash and flashed him her pistol, a custom Colt .45 exclusive to the vampires. They called it a dragon; it certainly had the intimidation of one. Any lycans who set their yellow eyes on such a weapon backed down immediately, if they knew what was good for them. “I’m out of ammunition.”

    

Ash returned the smile with a slyer one of his own. He stood up from the stool beside the counter and pushed a button beneath the chrome overhang.

    

The moment Ash pushed the button the one side of the counter lifted up until it was totally vertical. A staircase was exposed, hidden beneath the counter. A bluish white light flickered on and LED light bars stretching across the length of the steps became active. Misty looked to Ash and just stared. Her pistol fell to her side.

    

“Are you serious?”

    

“Ladies first.” Ash replied.

    

It was most certainly tempting. Misty could only imagine what was hidden beneath the mortals’ hideout. For all she knew there could be experimental weapons, maybe preserved lycan carcasses, or maybe perhaps just regular weapons. Of course there was only one way to find out. So without further stall, Misty preceded forward to the steps, her boots thudding with every step. When she reached the edge of the first story she peered down the steps and saw a cement floor. There was nothing else she could see.

    

“It’s safe. It isn’t the type of light that will harm you.” Ash stepped away from the uplifted counter and stood behind Misty. His chin was almost resting on her shoulders as he looked down with her.

    

“What kind of light would that be?” she asked quizzically. Ash wasn’t a specialist in vampire anatomy. At most the only things he heard were rumors, or myths. That was maybe why she asked him so playfully. Or maybe it was because of the previous night’s activities.

    

“Ultraviolet.” He whispered in her ear, causing a tingling chill to run down her spine. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

    

The third human member of the group stood back, along with the yellow rodent. The two blinked from time to time, but for the most part they would stare stupefied. The sight of Misty allowing Ash to be so close and not reacting with either yells or her mallet was completely out of the ballpark. And seeing Ash so close to Misty, with a smirk always shown on his face, was totally farfetched.

    

Realizing that there was nothing to fear, Misty took her first step. Soon she took another, and another until she saw what was in the lower room of the hideout. The objects in the room were spectacular.

    

Like the Pokemon Tower, the mortals’ hideout was well equipped to defend against a full-on attack. There were dozens of modern guns ranging from pistols, semi-automatics, and even full autos. Each weapon was hanging against the wall in mass quantities. Pistols and semi-autos were the main firearm, but the occasional shotgun could be spotted. Unlike the vampires’ collection of weapons, the mortals’ lacked weapons of the ancient days. Everything in the mortal base was a modern form of what the vampire’s had. Though the vampires were equipped with modern day weapons, the mortals had no maces, swords, or sais.

Still, they had a vast variety of weapons to choose from. So Misty took a step closer and liked, no loved, what she saw. Some of her favorite pistols and machine guns were hanging on the said wall that had a glowing bluish-white, foggy plastic backboard. The underground level of the hideout felt more like the weapons depot of a government agency. But unlike government agencies Misty didn’t have to worry about issues. Which ever weapon she wanted she could have.

    

Misty put the idea of a new weapon off to the side. Her special Colt .45, codenamed Dragon, was her weapon of choice. It was definitely more powerful than a standard Colt .45 and it was much more accurate. So she moved on to the ammo clips and slid a Colt .45’s off its stand. There were already bullets loaded into it but the bullets were Greek to Misty.

    

“What kind of bullet is this?” The top bullet was slid out of the magazine and she fondled it in her fingers. The exterior wasn’t the part she was inquiring about; rather it was the gelatinous, silver colored substance sifting around inside the bullet that vexed her.

    

“A new type of ammunition.” Brock replied pulling a silver knife off the wall and sliding it into a plastic sheath behind his belt.

    

“Silver nitrate.” Ash replied. “One of the scientists saw a movie with this type of ammunition. These rounds have really turned the tables in the war.”

    

For a while Misty stared at the liquid silver filled round. She kept fondling it between her fingers, but then she looked up at Ash. “With the knowledge of vampires, are the mortals going to mass produce a weapon that kills us?”

    

“Most likely.”

    

With that, Misty slapped the silver plated clip in her pistol and slammed it into her leg holster and concealed the holster with her jacket. “Well then, I think it would be a good idea to kill as many lycans as possible. Who knows, maybe I can get on the mortals’ good side.”

    

“You used to be one.”

    

“But not anymore. I got sick and now the humans think I’m worthy of their extermination.”

    

“No human will lay a hand on you. I promise.” In that time and place Ash had already broken his promise when he placed his hand on Misty’s cold cheek and kissed her lips. At the sight, Brock and Pikachu walked back up the flight of steps and waited impatiently.

    

“You’re human.” Misty moaned softly.

    

“Then I’m the only one.”

 

**********

 

The Kanto coven was in an uproar. With the unexpected arrival of their head Elder they assumed something disastrous had occurred. But something had happened. The plan the vampires had been plotting for centuries was foiled in the blink of an eye. A battle poured onto the coven’s grounds and one of the only true vampire warriors had been exiled.

    

As McLaren marched through the coven every vampire’s gaze turned away. He was the most feared immortal on earth; perhaps in history. The only immortals that may cause more fear would be either the two Sources, but their history was utter myth. There was no proof of their existence, nor was their proof of their inexistence. For the time being, every immortal feared McLaren above all else. His history was dark, much like his eyes, which also held a blue aura deep within. He was the oldest of the vampires but it didn’t show beneath his black leather trench coat that whipped behind him several feet.

    

While McLaren marched to the far end of the Tower, Tristan danced down the curved staircase, laughing flirtatiously with a beautiful female vampire. In his hand was a glass of blood and in the other was a cigarette. At the sound of his jolly chortling McLaren turned around and stared enraged at Tristan. The laughing continued until McLaren finally made his presence known.

    

“What is the meaning of this conspiracy, servant!” his voice bellowed to the far nooks of the Tower. Every vampire cowered in fear at the crack of their Elder’s fury. The room quickly cleared out and Tristan, the female vampire, and McLaren were the only beings remaining.

    

“My-my Lord.” Tristan stammered bending to one knee. The woman did likewise, both with their heads down.

    

“Rise! You are not worthy to bow in my presence. I would sooner allow an Arcanine to grovel rather than you.”

    

“For-forgive me, y-“

    

“Enough!” McLaren slammed his fist through a wooden table beside a massive six foot tall, stone fireplace. The wooden slivers fluttered across the room and the worthless pieces of timber rested on the floor in a disorderly pile. “Do you why I have returned?”

    

“The battle, my Lord?” Tristan asked quizzically.

    

“Not just the battle. Though I did hear of that.”

    

“How, may I ask, did word catch up to you?”

    

“That does not concern you, servant. What does concern you is that a plan centuries old has been hindered. I left you in charge, but now I can see that was a foolish deed.”

    

“Please, my Lord, allow me to compensate for my misdeeds. I beg of you.”

    

McLaren thought for a while. His dark eyes were locked on Tristan the entire time. Such a man desired to be a vampire elder, when now he was whimpering like an infant for forgiveness. “Very well. But if you shall fail I will hold you out myself to burn away in the sun.”

    

“What must I do?” Tristan asked.

    

Once more McLaren took his precious time deciding. Finally, a smirk crept across his face. “Bring me Misty Waterflower.”

    

“Aye, my Lord.”