Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Plague ❯ Ancient History ( Prologue )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

PROLOGUE

They huddled together behind the Wall of Bones: three young Omanyte, recently hatched, their stumpy tentacles grasping at one another's small, soft shells as they peeked through the empty eye socket of a Grovyle skull. In the pouring rain and dead of night, the furious combatants that duked it out in and around the basin were little more than shifting shadows until the lightning crackled through the sky again. Its blue light flashed across the barbed domes of Omastar shells and sweeping shields of Kabutops' faces alike, revealing seeping cracks and hate-filled expressions. Each roll of thunder was a welcome interlude to both sides' roars, never mind their death screams.

Amongst the chaos, one of the attackers stood out from the rest. Her black armour gave her a nightmarish quality all on its own but it was nothing compared to the way she fought. Although surrounded by Omastar she showed no sign of faltering: her talons sliced through mud and found traction in the solid clay beneath as her long, wickedly sharp scythes slashed through flesh and carved chunks from the tough shell. No sooner was one Omastar dead then another came under her relentless onslaught, water pouring over the broad, sweeping shield of her face as she hacked at her enemies with reckless abandon.

“Kabuuuu!” she roared in battle-driven ecstasy, an unusual pair of silver wings letting out a piercing scream as they beat the air at her back.

With one downward arch of her left blade she deflected a hail of pearly white spikes as they burst through the air towards her, her violet eyes narrowing beneath their translucent second lids as she focused on an outcropping of rock that jutted out of the scarred earth. No guilt showed on her features as she carved through the bodies of her enemies, bounding over corpses and kicking aside the dying as she hurtled towards her aim: only pure, unmitigated joy sprouting from the sense of invincibility that swamped her sense as she slaughtered another foe.

Suddenly, as she raised a foot to dig her claws into the belly of an upturned Omanyte, a powerful blast of water slammed into her silver torso, toppling the midnight warrior into the mess of blood, mud and rain that flooded the battlefield. Her head smacked against the solid spiral of a dead Omastar's shell, her mind reeling from the blow. On instinct alone she pressed the flats of her blades against the ground to force herself back up when her feet found no purchase in the sludge. She was almost back into a crouching position when a flare of pain in the gap between her back and neck plates slapped her brain back into action.

Screeching, the Kabutops twisted around enough to fire a high-pressure stream of water from her open mouth, stalling the massive Omastar who was advancing towards her. Quick to take advantage of the time she had bought herself, the Pokémon sprang to her feet, unable to differentiate between blood and water as liquid dribbled down her back. No sooner was she standing then another spike hurtled through the air towards her, striking her between the eyes, glancing off the well-protected area and falling, useless, to her feet as the Omastar blindly released a rolling barrage of spines. His vision blurred by the mud caught up in the Kabutops' attack, he had no way of knowing that he now fired over the killer's head as she ducked slightly before leaping forwards, her blades scissoring from both sides to slice into his shell.

A resounding crash as both blows did little more than scratch his armour was drowned out by yet more thunder and the Kabutops struck again, her aim true this time. Her scythe sliced straight through one side of his face, black ooze dripping from his ruined eye to mix with crimson blood. Omastar only had time to lash out with one of his long tentacles in a death spasm before collapsing to the earth, but the blow caught his opponent in the chest and forced the air from her lungs. Doubled up and gasping, it took a great deal of willpower to duck another burst of water and lash out at an opportunistic foe, sending the invertebrate dropping to the ground with a splash.

Despite those two successes, however, the guise of invincibility had been ripped from her mind and now the Kabutops swept the battlefield with her gaze, thankful for the ring of devastation she had carved around herself as it gave her precious seconds to catch her breath. The sight that greeted her, however, stole the air straight back as soon as she'd drawn it in. She could only make out four of her allies still standing.

“Haakmin!” she cried, just as a Kabutops towards the rear took a particularly long barb straight through his shoulder.

Fighting on one of the narrow paths leading down the cliff face to the bay, he jerked on impact, took a weak swipe at his enemy and collapsed, his head, left shoulder and arm hanging precariously over the edge. Suddenly she cared nothing for the attack; abandoning her position, she raced towards the felled heavyweight, the unnatural silver wings that fluttered restlessly against her back aiding her with brief, unsteady lift as she leapt over enemies and the dead alike.

The Omastar who towered over the injured Kabu, preparing a final, finishing shot, never knew what hit him. All he heard was a metallic scream of the likes he had never heard, followed swiftly by a series of dull thuds accompanied by his own gasp as every last one of the permanent spikes along his back were sliced through by a force beyond imagination. He tried to turn, but agonising pain leapt up in his side as that same brute power managed to tear right through his thick shell and into flesh. And then he was down, tentacles twitching almost imperceptibly in the muck.

Pulling her claws free of her kill, the black Kabutops fell to her knees beside her wounded ally, hauling him into her lap while the blunt side of her scythes reached out to trail across the contours of the defeated Pokémon's helmed face.

“Haakmin,” she croaked helplessly, her vision starting to blur as the other creature's tan lids drew back to reveal pure agony in his dark green eyes.

“Shaaca,” he said, voice warming in recognition even as the last syllables gargled through the blood pooling in the back of his throat.

Her eyes darted down to the wound, where the Omastar's barbed horn had torn straight through the gap between shoulder and chest plates and quivered with every shuddering breath its victim drew. Four shorter bolts protruded from his lower abdomen, acid burns marring the side of his face. Already the blood running from his wounds was beginning to slow. Her throat swelled at the sight until she could barely speak.

Catching the look in his mate's eyes, Haakmin spluttered out a wet, painful laugh.

“Worse... than I thought, then,” he forced out, his whole body shaking with the exertion of speech, “And here... I'd thought I might get to... play the hero today.”

The attempt at humour was too much effort. The act dropped and he tensed in agony, mining deep into his last reserves of strength to lean up and nuzzle her face. The flats of their cheeks pressed together, they winced together as the death cry of another of their dwindling number pierced the storm, but Shaaca was too overwhelmed at the sight of Haakmin wounded so badly to even wonder who was left.

“We've lost,” he said simply, “And I... I'm beyond help. You need to run.”

He felt her tense against him, her characteristic fierceness no doubt flaring in her eyes. Perhaps she could accept a lost battle but not the shame of retreat, he knew. Especially not now.

“You have to,” he insisted, cutting her off before she could even argue, “Kognook needs you.”

She leant back, glaring passionately down at him.

“There are others who could-” she started rashly, but trailed away at the look of horror on her mate's face.

“Don't. Don't even suggest that,” he gasped with authority so unlike him that Shaaca flinched back at the alien tone. “You can't. Abandon. Your own child. To lose both parents. It would... You can't...”

Her eyes widened as his rolled back in their sockets, the staggered rise and fall of his chest ending in one weak whoosh of air. She stumbled back, suddenly aware of a ring of Omastar and Omanyte advancing on her. When the familiar, instinctual call for action remained silent, buried beneath a mountain of grief, her warrior's resolve crumbled and her head twitched towards the final gap in the growing wall of enemies. Slowly, she rose to her feet, leaving Haakmin's corpse hanging over the edge of the cliff, rainwater already pooling in his open mouth and eye sockets.

“Your last wish,” she said raggedly, looking down at him for one last time. “I'm so sorry, Haakmin. So sorry.”

She leapt.