Montagne Khastil - Unranked - June 10th - Lumiose City, Kalos
Though the bathroom mirror's fog wiped away with a single pass from Monty's hand, he couldn't shake the fog of thoughts which had been plaguing him since he woke up. He'd spent his entire shower playing that night's dream back in his mind, wondering what, if anything, he could have done differently.
"I should have been ready," the young man mumbled aloud as he fiddled with his toothbrush. "I should have expected something like that to happen." He studied his face in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, and visions of the red eyes staring back at him danced in the reflection as he visually traced the line of his scar. Even then, three months later, he could feel the slice of steel along his jaw, and Monty cursed himself for letting his guard down.
It was the first time the consequences of his life had really caught up with him, so he reasoned that it was only natural for him not to have expected it. That reasoning still wasn't enough to change the fact that it happened, and it wasn't enough to change the vow he made to ensure it never happened again.
"You've got better shit to worry about," Monty reminded himself as he stepped out of his bathroom into the hallway, shower caddy in hand. Technically it wasn't his bathroom, but it was there for the brothel's...overnight customers. It sat at the end of the bedroom wing, and if it was any earlier in the night Monty would've heard more than he wished to as he walked the long hardwood corridor back to his room.
A door cracked open just as the criminal passed it, and the voices inside reminded him that it was his job to listen even if he didn't like it.
"COCHON! You didn't pay for the night!" The girl's voice was livid, but it wasn't one Monty recognized. He halted his step to listen closer.
"Don't be like that, baby," a man's voice pleaded. "I paid!" Sounds like a Unovan, Monty observed as he took a step closer to the door. His fire began to rise as he listened, having recognized the sound of a tourist who wouldn't take no for an answer and wouldn't pay for a yes.
"You paid for three hours, cochon! FOUR HOURS AGO!" The door swung inwards and the girl stepped out half-dressed, a long t-shirt covering her down to the knees and her brown hair down in a mess of curls. Her green eyes met Monty's, and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as she practically jumped at the sight of him. "Wh-who are you?!" She demanded, eyes darting between him and the customer just out of Monty's view.
"The bouncer." The criminal stated matter-of-factly. "Customer trouble?"
Quick footsteps thundered from the room, and Monty dropped his shower caddy as the customer in question shot a hand out to grab the girl's arm. "I paid, bitch!" The man growled, but before his grasp could close on the girl's wrist Monty thrust himself between them and knocked the hand away.
"You're done for the night, pal." Monty stated, but the man dove forward to shove him in the chest. Adrenaline coursed through him as he prepared to counter, the girl shrieked behind Monty, and the criminal barked at her to "GO TO THE MADAME!" as he grabbed the man's arms.
They fell back together as the girl ran down the hall, and on the way down Monty pulled his leg up and planted his foot on the man's chest. When his back hit the floor Monty's leg exploded up, kicking the man off of himself and back into the bedroom.
A faint light trickled in through the window, and Monty could make out that his opponent was a similar height to himself with a skinnier build. He was in nothing but his boxers, which Monty supposed he couldn't knock since he himself had nothing but a quickly-loosening towel around his waist, and as the man picked himself up off the floor he spat, "Mind your business, asshole!"
"Queues like you are my business," Monty retorted as he tightened his towel. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and for a moment memories of the dream left Monty's mind. The man raised his fists and charged Monty again, but the criminal kicked his shower caddy into his feet. His opponent tripped over his bar of soap and fell forward, right into a right-handed uppercut with all of Monty's weight behind it.
The man's knees folded, and before he fell all the way back Monty caught his shirt and threw a jab into his face. With a CRUNCH! the man's nose broke, and Monty grabbed his shoulders and threw him forward into the hallway. The man's broken nose sprayed onto the hardwood, but before he could get to his feet Monty stomped him square between the shoulders, pushing him back down and slamming his face into the floor.
The criminal crouched down and grabbed the man's hair, picking his head up so he could properly hear him. "You will grab your shit. You will leave. You will never come back here again. I'll be back in one minute." Monty dropped the man's head and stood up, stalking back toward his room as he heard a mumble of "...bullshit man..." behind him.
Monty's hand still shook from the rush of the fight, and he held his right hand and examined the split knuckles he'd gained from his first fight in a while. He was just like the rest, he thought with satisfaction, Acted tough, wasn't tough.
The criminal reached his room and turned the knob, but when he looked back up the hall the man wasn't on the ground anymore. A flash of white light emanated from the room, and Monty's blood froze as he recognized the sound of a Poke Ball. A small pink and brown Pokemon emerged from the room, followed closely by its master, who pointed at Monty in a frenzy and barked, "KILL HIM! MACH PUNCH!"
Monty's stomach dropped as the Pokemon's fist glowed red, and he'd barely opened the door when it exploded through the air fist first. "ORAC- OOF!"
The attack connected with Monty's right shoulder, and he cracked the plaster as he spun off his feet and hit the wall. With a hand on his shoudler the criminal slid down to the floor in disbelief, but before he could get up he heard another barked command from down the hall. "TACKLE NOW!"
The adrenaline was back, but there was something more behind it as Monty tried to fix his eyes on his tiny attacker. He'd only felt this feeling twice before; fear.
Monty rolled out of the way as the pink-and-brown Pokemon dropped into a wrestler's crouch and sprung forward, missing him by inches as it hit the wall and broke through the drywall, and the criminal practically dove into his doorway as the little devil pulled itself out. "ORACLE!" He cried out, practically panicked, and a pair of red eyes blinked lazily through the darkness in response.
Footsteps thundered down the hall as the pink Pokemon appeared in the doorway, but in a flash of black and white light it and Oracle were back in the hall. The Absol's hair stood on end, it's claws were fully extended, and Monty witnessed for the first time the quenching of his partner's thirst for battle as she slammed her opponent into the opposite wall.
This is it. This is a Pokemon battle now, Monty thought through heaving breaths as he fought his fear. Oracle jumped off her opponent and her paws crackled with the same black light as they had in the warehouse the other night, but as she darted forward her opponent dodged her attack and jumped back towards its trainer.
Monty clambered to his feet and stepped into the hall, facing the rapidly approaching. "Back for more? I charge by the hour, too." Monty asked as the man's face contorted with fury.
"MACH PUNCH!" The trainer screamed, and his Pokemon's fist glowed the same bright red as it dropped into its wrestler's crouch.
"Oracle, go!" Monty commanded, and the Absol's horn glowed a bright pink as she darted forward to meet her opponent. They collided between their trainers, but Oracle's reach advantage meant her opponent went flying as the red energy dispersed from its fist.
The man watched his Pokemon fly across the hall in disbelief, but Monty was on him before he could turn back. The pair fell to the ground, Monty locked his legs on the man's sides, and the man raised his hands to protect his face as Monty began raining punches down on him.
THUMP THUMP
IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN! Red crept its way into Monty's vision as he punched, and with every blow his breathing got heavier and more frantic.
THUMP-THUMP-CRUNCH
The man dropped his hands. Monty kept punching. Beneath him he saw an officer, clad in blue, and he was back in the warehouse on that fateful day four months ago. He wouldn't be caught. He couldn't be caught. He'd win. He had to win.
CRUNCH-SPURT-SPURT
He'd kill him, he wouldn't let him take him away again, he'd-
WHIFF
He missed? No, his punch was stopped.
"MONTAGNE KHASTIL!" A shrill voice cried from just ahead of him. Monty looked up in a haze, and he felt himself being pulled back by strong hands. Madame Brusseau was standing there shaking her head, with the brown-haired girl and Evelynne at her side with horrified expressions. They weren't the only spectators though, as the commotion had drawn attention up and down the hall as girls peeked out to see what was going on.
Monty was pulled to his feet, and he realized the bartender, Jacques, was behind him.
"Jacques...Madame, I-"
"Enough, Montagne," the Madame cut him off sharply. She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes with one hand, waving the other and saying, "You're the bouncer, not the executioner. I expect you to have better control over yourself. Am I clear?!"
Monty mumbled out a "Yes, Madame," and the old woman turned around and demanded, "WHEN YOU DO YOUR JOB, DO WE ALL GATHER AND WATCH?!" Doors slammed shut at the Madame's chastising, and she turned back to Jacques and said, "Take care of the trash," with a gesture down at the bloodied customer. The bartender nodded affirmatively, and the Madame turned to the brown-haired girl and said, "Find his Poke Ball and click the middle button to return the Tyrouge."
"Tyrouge?" Monty asked as he clutched his right shoulder, eyes fixed on the unconscious creature where it lay a few feet away. The Madame looked at him incredulously and asked if he started training yesterday, and smirked at the wit of her own comment. "Tyrouge, a Fighting-Type Pokemon. You'll be lucky if that shoulder isn't broken."
"Lucky," Monty echoed. Is that what this night was? Lucky?
"Yes, lucky." The Madame re-stated, clearly agitated at having to repeat herself.
"Lucky that towel hasn't fallen off, too." Evelynne chimed in with a grin, her arms crossed as she gestured at Monty's waist. The young man blushed as he clutched at the only piece of fabric between himself and total exposure, and he scowled as he said, "Come on, Oracle."
He stalked back into his room to get dressed, slamming it shut behind him as Evelynne giggled, and Oracle stood at the foot of his bed as he fell into it. Why did he keep punching? The guy was down. His hands were down. He was probably out cold after the first couple hits. So why'd he keep going? Why'd he lose control?
Monty took a deep breath to calm himself, and his eyes rested on Oracle as he replayed the beating. I lost control the second he brought out his Pokemon, he thought. I can't let it happen again.
