Birds: Perfection in the Eastern Hall

Eternal Berg, BSTF, May 17, 2009

-=-

“Perfection! He's heading down the eastern hall!” 

P was rushing down the hall, as far as he could, trying to catch the intruder. No time to lose. Nothing else to do. Just take up the chase. Catch him. 

“Seal the doors, man! No one is to get in or out of this building until I say so!” P was screaming, his mask making his voice echo into the earpiece carefully tucked away inside it. The doors were slamming down behind him, echoing throughout the entire hallway. The intruder couldn't get away now. Even if P himself couldn't catch him – which was unlikely – the intruder would become trapped in a cell of concrete walls and iron doors. The doors only left one corridor open – a secret one, that opened only in the event of a lockdown. It was a regular event, the security lockdown. Once a week it was performed, allowing the necessary technicians into the lower basement area.

“What did he take, exactly?” P wasn't nearly out of breath yet. He had a level of physical stamina that few had nowadays – it was unnecessary, after all. The easy domestication of Pokemon – the very thing that had made the fortunes of so many – made it irrelevant. His voice came loud and clear, with only the muffling mask affecting it at all. 

“Unknown. He was spotted in the lower areas, c-c-c-clutching something round. S-suspected legendary.” The voice on the other end was inexperienced, fragile. Whoever it was, they seemed to be unsettled by the events. It certainly wasn't a young voice, but it was new to it's job.

“Looking for this?” An unfamiliar voice called. P turned a corner in the hallway, only to find the source of the voice leaning against a wall, smirking. P's momentum prevented him from stopping in time, placing not only a lockdown door between him and the voice, but also the entrance to the basement in the voice's 'cell'.

P began screaming and pounding on the door, shouting at the voice on the other end to open it. The inexperienced man simply replied “I don't know which button it is!”

P raged further.

--

It took six minutes before the doors lifted. P managed to jump through the basement gap moments before it closed, leaving him coughing and spluttering at the top of the stairs. The basement was a long way down – The stranger wouldn't be able to escape with ease, but he would be able to do considerable damage regardless. He quickly rose to his feet and began the rapid, running descent to the basement. The lights grew brighter as he descended – not from the lights themselves, but from the machine housed at the bottom. It's power drew from it's host – the machine was parasitic, a form of natural energy that had never been seen before in Cyren.

“This is terrible, you know.” The stranger was standing next to the machine, just as casually as he had in the hall, finally giving P a chance to examine him. He was tall, Caucasian and clearly arrogant. His brown, pinstripe suit was only outdone by his strange, yet fitting, bowler hat and cane, held in his left hand. His right hand was juggling a pokeball – the one that had caused all the fuss.

“Looking for this?” The man tossed it to P, without hesitation. His voice did not match at all what P imagined it should be, based on the outfit. “It's empty. Stole it from you guys. Do they still work, by the way? Or is it all of them that are completely ruined?”

“Now, that would be telling.” P said, somewhat smugly. “Do you even know where you are now?”

“I have a fair idea,” Said the man, turning to the machine. “You took this poor creature from a little girl. After she died. Am I the only one that sees how wrong it is?”

“You don't understand what's going on here.” P said, almost snarling.

“I understand everything, you idiot. I understand the reason why you stopped the pokeballs. I understand why you undid everything from the past four years. I understand what happened to Apryl Bell.”

“I know,” P said, smirking. “I've just worked out who you are.” 

“Then you know that I'm going to set this thing free.” The man had not turned to face P at all. He was instead focussing on the controls, pressing buttons and pulling switches without paying attention.

“We're not under lockdown. The terminal won't work.” P moved forward and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. “Just give it up. I'll be nice. I promise.” Smirking under the mask.

“Well, then I'll have to get tough.” The man leapt onto the console itself, using it as a boost to get to the cables connected to the machine. As he began ripping them out, one by one, the machine slowly shut down, causing it's host to cry out in pain. The pokemon it housed was awake. P and the man both suddenly fell down, grasping their heads in similar anguish. 

“You... y... you idiot!” P yelled, gasping for air as he spoke, “You've let it free!”

“I... what... it should... what have you done to iiiiit?!” The man said, his final word being distorted by a scream as he began floating in mid-air.

“Wha...” P said, somewhat surprised. 

A voice cut the air, an unfamiliar one. P was unnerved by it. It seemed unnatural. It was in his head.

Do not expect this to be the end. I am simply fulfilling a bargain I have yet to make.

The pain stopped, the pokemon was gone. The strange man was on the floor now, no longer floating, and all P could see before he blacked out was a strange creature, with three heads, bursting through the roof.

The End

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