Author's Note: Yeah, I'll get to the flesh ripping soon. Oh the wonderful, glorious rending of human lives...
***
Officer Jennifer frowned. Flora ‘Destroyer' Suthar was eccentric, but she didn't usually close the Gym for an entire day. There was a hastily scribbled sign on hung on the door. It simply read ‘Closed. Get your kicks elsewhere. Signed, The Management'. Out of habit she adjusted the sign so that it hung straight. Rubidium sat at her feet, sniffing at the air. Not but a few feet away some rather unhappy trainers were trying to rearrange their day. The rain had lifted for the moment, but the clouds were still low and dark. The gutters of the Gym were full to the brim and a small cascade of water just narrowly missed her.
"Oh! Officer Jennifer, I'm so sorry about that!" Sasha was holding a long stick with some sort of hook attachment at the top. From the fact that she was standing just under the guttering in waterproofs, it was quite obvious what she was doing.
"Don't worry about it Sasha, you didn't hit me or Rubidium," Jennifer was annoyed, but didn't let it show. Children Sasha's age shouldn't be doing work like clearing blockages; they had no control over poles or anything. Casually, she wondered over to the girl, Rubidium trotting along beside her. "You wouldn't happen to know where Miss Flora Suthar went, would you."
Despairingly, Sasha just gave her a very blank look, her mouth open just a little. She had obviously gotten confused somewhere in that sentence, somehow.
"Do you know where Miss Suthar went?" Perhaps it had been all those words; then again, many people got confused when the word ‘happen' came up. This time, Sasha just shook her head, causing small droplets of slightly pink water to fall from her hair. Jennifer sighed; this was going to be difficult. "Well, is there someone else I could ask? Hot Ice or Honey maybe?" Once again Sasha shook her head.
"They've all gone out. Jet Rincon was with them, and Damien Harvey," The girl tightened her grip on the pole, blushing slightly. "Don't you think they're just so handsome?"
Trying not to let her aggravation show, Officer Jennifer thanked the girl and left. It was at least half an hour later, back in the station, when she realized what had been said. Thankfully the Police Chief was out at lunch; otherwise she'd have taken another warning for swearing.
"Fucking fuck!" A junior officer just narrowly avoided being bowled over by a chair. Jennifer was absolutely furious and didn't care you knew. "I don't fucking believe this. That little prick of a kid looked me right in the eyes and told me she didn't have a fucking clue where fucking Suthar and her fucking friends fucking went!"
Self preservation instincts had kicked in for much of the force. They kept their heads down, pretending that government targets and paperwork were really interesting. Long ago it had come to light that Olmstead City's Officer Jennifer was very unlike her cousins dotted about the world. She swore like a sailor, wore trousers and a zip up fleece instead of a skirt and she hated hats. So it came as no surprise to her co-workers when bits of furniture started flying about the room.
"Gods fucking damn it to fuck," Another chair skidded across the floor and crashed into the vending machine. "Where the fuck are those fucking maps?" Like a whirlwind, Jennifer ripped papers from her desk and from the filing cabinets. Soon the office was littered with the contents of the cabinets. The junior officer looked on in dismay. He had finished sorting those ten minutes ago.
Jennifer was elated, however. Triumphantly, she held aloft a crumbled sheet covered in random lines and squiggles. "Someone grab some sandwiches, we're going on a field trip!"
***
Though slightly scrunched now, the map was neatly folded and hidden just inside his jacket. Damien patted his chest again. He was so nervous about all of this. Rummaging through his brother's room, which, thankfully, was messy anyway, he was sure he would have been caught by their mother. Now he was worried about Officer Jennifer. The map had been just where Jet said it would: stashed in a false bottom in Lae's desk drawer, on top of a diary. A thick green line marked a route from Vaux Park to the Forest. Hopefully Flora could work with it.
Coming to the top of Korma Street, he broke into a run, slashing water up to his knees. They were going to meet in the park, which was right on the other side of the Centre, a good mile away. He was late. This was due only to his curiosity. He could jeopardise the entire mission because of his own damn stupidity. Damien tried to reason with himself, that his intentions were noble, but he should never have looked there for clues. Diaries were private for a reason.
Jumping over the low wall surrounding the Gym, he sped along the high street. After having landed in a rather large puddle, his jeans were now completely soaked through. There was at least one thing that could be said for the rain, it made everything smell so fresh. Even with it being mid afternoon the world felt new.
Hot Ice was waiting at the park's entrance, a large backpack hanging casually off one shoulder. She looked slightly bedraggled and muddy but still stood proud. As usual, she was dressed in a black mock-military suit; complete with knee high lace-up boots. She was naturally imposing and commanding - something Damien always found attractive in women.
Hot Ice was only slightly frowning, not seeming and or even annoyed. Her frown was most likely just a feature of her, Damien reasoned. He waved as he got closer. Rather than waving back though, the red-headed woman turned on the spot and strode off. Though he felt a little insulted by this, it was made up for by the view. A self-satisfied smirk played across his lips. That is, until he realised just quite what it was that they were going to be doing.
"Hot Ice," He tried not to let his nervousness show, this was all his idea after all. Unsurprisingly the woman didn't slow, but briefly she did turn her head. It started to drizzle again. "Do you think we'll spend the night in the forest? I mean..."
"More than likely." Bluntly, she interrupted him. Though he'd never really interacted with the red head before, Damien wasn't surprised. She seemed a very straight-forward person.
"Do you think anyone will get hurt?" In truth, ‘hurt' was an understatement of what would happen. He tried not to think any further. Hot Ice, to her credit, seemed to ignore his question.
The trees above had shed their leaves some weeks ago, but still the pathway had scattered spots of mulch. To Damien, there always seemed to be something wrong with tarmac paths in a park. Then again, Vaux Park was entirely man made. Every natural and haphazard looking border had been carefully planned and planted. Well, that wasn't entirely true. One small part of the part was all natural. In what was now the ‘forested' region there was a shrine and surrounding it were trees that were centuries old. It had been mostly untouched when the park was built around it, two hundred years ago.
Abruptly Hot Ice left the path. Having been lost in thought Damien almost lost her. Overgrown shrubs sat at the edge of the border, with delicate spring flowers sprouting beneath them. Only the crunching of twigs allowed him to find the ghostly woman. Her pace had been slowed a little by the undergrowth, but still her steps were as forceful as ever. Up ahead he caught sight of a turmeric sash, partially obscured by damp trunks. Getting closer, he saw Flora standing in front of the small shrine. The screen-styled door had been yanked to one side and now hung from a single hinge.
"Damien do you actively try to annoy me?"
Were all women in his life going to be this cold, he wondered. Hot Ice ripped the decrepit door off and stashed it inside. With a jolt, Damien realised that Flora was looking right at him, something she'd never done before. It was certainly a frightening experience.
"Well, I suppose you have the map," Fishing the map out from his inside pocket, he figured that with Hot Ice and Flora, subduing the Beast might not be so hard.
"Don't worry; the others are already in the tunnel." Casually, the Gym Leader stepped into the shrine and disappeared. Hot Ice simply stared at him.
"Uh, let's get going then." He smiled at her nervously, but in the encroaching gloom it was hard to tell. With a leap more forceful than he'd have liked, Damien jumped into the tunnel.
***
The stone walls were ragged and damp. Already Jet had at least a dozen nicks on his elbows alone. This was a tunnel network that he and Lae had discovered some months ago, back in the summer. Just thinking about Lae made his heart sink. He was very much attached to the other boy, so much so that he felt as if he'd betrayed him. Confining in Honey had felt right at the time and perhaps Lae wouldn't appreciate all Jet had to tell.
Pleione was floating alongside him, giving off a pale silver glow. If it weren't for her and their torches, it would have been impossible to get around. Far in front, Hot Ice had taken ‘point', as she'd called it, with Flora a few steps behind, leading the strange team. Honey was just a couple feet in front of him, leaving neon marks on the wall every so often. Even though they had a map, and Jet had some experience down here, navigating was difficult and it was easy to lose your way.
He felt someone tap his shoulder gently. In the gloom he could just make out Professor Cornwell smiling at him. Behind her was Ohm, an Electabuzz she'd trained to be her research assistant. Inwardly Jet sighed; he knew what was coming next. It was all Cornwell had wanted to talk about: Pleione. He'd already told her all he knew. Of how the Pokéball had just appeared out of nowhere and how it couldn't be lost. He had no idea why he'd named the Shuppet Pleione; just that it was the only name he could think of at the time, despite having never heard the word before. Also he really, truly, did not know why the damned handkerchief glowed. He reiterated all of this to Professor Cornwell, using the nicest wording he could think of. She simply smiled sweetly and nodded.
"Do you think Pleione came from the Forest?" She asked, seemingly ignoring everything Jet had just said. In response he just shook his head and sighed. He simply did not care about where the ghost had come from, or why, he just wanted to be rid of the thing. This time, Cornwell rested her hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be alright, really. Don't worry." Her whispered words were soothing, but he had trouble believing them. No one else seemed to be paying that much attention. Soon they stopped talking; the only sounds were the scraping of feet and elbows.
It took much of Jet's will not to panic. He wasn't claustrophobic, but he was finding out very quickly how much he missed the open sky. This was not helped by a slow trickling sensation along his back. It was as if ice was being brushed down his spine. He forced himself not to shiver. All the people around him were so strong, why was he worrying over something as mundane as a little chill? Pleione's soft silver glow became slightly harsher, but Jet didn't notice. The feeling of ice shards had changed, now it like someone with unimaginably cold hands was stroking him. Biting his lip, he tried not to cry out. The silver light was getting brighter now and he heard someone call his name. Briefly, he caught a glimpse of purple, before a sharp pain on his cheek snapped him back to reality. Honey had slapped him. Thankfully, she looked more concerned than angry. Flora, despite the tunnel's gloom, was noticeably furious.
"Jet, just what the fuck do you think you're playing at?" Her voice carried easily through the cave, rebounding off the stone. He tried to respond, but his voice caught in his throat. He felt weak and dizzy; a vague wave of nausea was rising from his gut. Honey caught him before he could fall and quickly motioned to Flora to drop the subject. With a grunt of distaste, the Gym Leader glared at the pair. "When we get out of here, there will be a long talk. Recall that annoying handkerchief of yours before I kill it, got that?"
Jet rested on the wall, one arm casually slung round his exotic friend's waist. In turn Honey had wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep him from falling again. The rocks around them felt much closer than before, and Jet truly realised that the weight of the world was held away by nothing more than a sheet of stone. The faint glow from the torches and neon-scribbles gave the tunnel a far eerier air.
"Are we travelling to a forest or to Hell?" His words were barely audible, but the despair he had affected Honey. Briefly she held him tighter, before pulling him away from the wall and out of his thoughts.
"Let's get going. We can't stay here forever."
Once again he started his rhythmic tramp. He was reminded of the stories he'd read when he was younger, the mythology of a lost and ancient civilization, of heroes who willingly risked everything for the ones they loved. The gods in those stories were cruel and manipulative; and he wondered, was someone doing the same to him? Allowing him to stride into the Underworld, only to steal away the person he was to rescue over the slightest glance?
Honey started to hum, she wasn't terribly good at singing, but at least she knew when to stop. Unbidden, the lyrics sprang to mind.
Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream
of what I need