Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
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Deep, thunderous chuckles echoed through the misty third floor of the Pokémon Tower. A monstrous shadow hung over us, a mass of toxin and darkness in the imitation of a Haunter, saliva dripping from the Black Fog's person-sized tongue as it licked its bared teeth hungrily. Hate and sadistic pleasure radiated off the monster like a stench, the air visibly twisting and warping with the strength of the Distortion leaking from it.
I didn't dare take my eyes off of it, but I could feel the other, lesser Ghost-Types, starting to recover from the combined attack we'd used to break out of the Distortion tornado. The unharmed ones – stronger Pokémon lingering in the fog as their subordinates wore us down – gathered around us in a loose circle, keeping a wide distance from their boss, yet close enough to cut us off.
Well, shit.
"So you're the bitch that's keeping me from using the Tower!" Gary didn't seem to share my apprehension, taking a step forward confidently, and speaking louder to be heard over the sizzling of the floor in front of him as the spit gnawed through the old stone like a Muk. "Well, get out of my way, or I'll kick your ass back to wherever cowards like you hide when strong people come around!"
I smirked despite myself at the words. The Black Fog, on the other hand, narrowed its eyes at the disrespect and drew back a little, the void-esque miasma coalescing to solidify the Haunter further, a deafening shriek blowing the surrounding mist into a frenzy. My companions covered their ears with shouts, but I managed to fight through the wave of head-splitting pain and nausea with difficulty.
Guess we were doing it, then.
"BLAST IT!"
Icy beams punched through the Black Fog, rocks the size of my entire body wrenched from the ground and hurled at the ghost, a blinding lance of electricity following close behind.
All of it passed through the humongous Haunter with no effect; the rocks too physical to harm it, and the elemental attacks were too narrow to be more than mosquito bites.
The rest was another story.
The ancient terror hissed loudly, making the other ghosts flinch, as its toxins boiled and evaporated under the dual Flamethrowers and forceful Dragon Breath. Holes opened up in the miasma, allowing the rest of the flames to pass through harmlessly, but the heat definitely bothered it. The enormous eyes gazed on our group, locking on something in the back. With a growl more suited for a Mightyena, the Black Fog thrust its arms out to the side.
My eyes widened as the flowing limbs disappeared into the fog, vanishing up to the elbows. Following its gaze, I turned around to try to warn the others.
Too late.
Eevee and Clefairy, meanwhile, had started gathering the necessary Distortion for Shadow Balls, the crackling orbs of purple and black forming in front of them. Eevee's knack for ranged attacks had shown itself when learning the Ghost-Type attack, and hers was clearly bigger.
That might've been why the Black Fog's right arm reformed behind the Normal-Type first, massive fist slamming into the fox and sending her flying my way. The air was knocked out of my lungs as I caught her, stumbling and falling to the floor from the force. Unhurt, I quickly checked Eevee, finding her eyes to be closed and her chest moving unevenly. Gently feeling with my fingers, I found several broken ribs before I quickly put her in her ball and got back up.
Holy shit. That wasn't even an attack.
Back with the fight, Gary had been quick enough to use the slight delay to recall Clefairy and re-release her at his side. The tiny Fairy-Type was launching Shadow Ball after Shadow Ball at the looming horror above them, but every time the orbs got close, something happened to them. Their edges became frayed and fuzzy, their cohesion dissolving, and by the time the attacks reached the Haunter, they were little more than unfocused gusts of Distortion that barely bothered it.
Some kind of Distortion control?
Even with that, the Black Fog pulled back, a hovering nightmare as it allowed the lesser ghosts to close in and do its dirty work for it.
Coward was right. Fucker wouldn't even fight us.
Hitmonchan vanished into his ball as I watched, Sandslash's claws a blur as it tried its best to defend its Trainer from the mass of ghosts that were slowly closing in. Above them, Onix's massive maw opened, pitch-black void energy gathering. The Dark Pulse tore and ripped at the surrounding Distorion and made it flinch away like an animal, an inaudible scream that I could taste rippling through the third floor of the Pokémon Tower.
A huge fist formed under the Rock-Type and swung up in an uppercut, forcing Onix's mouth to slam shut and the Dark Pulse to dissipate. Cracks spread through Onix's jaw, pebbles raining down on those covering under its massive bulk as it swayed drunkenly. For a moment, I feared I was about to watch the large Pokémon crush its teammate and Trainer, but unlike Eevee, it managed to shake it off and stay up.
My ruined sword swung left and right, Gastly and Shuppet feigning attacks only to pull back before I could get them. Two grabbed the blade mid-swing and forced me to put my whole weight behind it, or lose it. A pair of Water Bullets from the nearby Siren saved my weapon, but the distraction was enough for a pair of Haunters to swirl together and surround the Water-Type. I recalled her fast, but didn't dare put her back out without knowing how much she ended up breathing in, Raticate's fate clear in my mind.
It took less than a minute before the sword was wrenched from my grip anyway and thrown into the mist.
Things were going real bad.
"GARY, PIDGEOTTO! TWISTER!"
He didn't question me, yelling up at his Pidgeotto as it hurled by, closely pursued by a cloud of Ghost-Types. Under normal circumstances, the massive Flying-Type would've out-flown the immaterial Pokémon, even with its bulk, but not only was it restricted by the size of the room – which, despite the Ghost-Types best efforts, wasn't actually endless – everywhere the bird went, a new group of taunting spirits awaited it.
Leaving him to wrangle the bird, I did my best to corral Sol, Betty, and Growly together in roughly the same area, without screwing up the whole battle. We were getting pushed closer and closer together as the ghosts circled, and I could see them getting ready to pull that tornado shit again.
Well, two could play that game.
Or four.
"PERI!"
Trusting him to have pulled it off, I waited until the back of my hair started swaying in the sudden wind before yelling out my command.
"FLAMETHROWER!"
The mist among the ghosts before me and right in the Black Fog's face began moving while the three Pokémon inhaled. Swiftly, the movement became faster and faster, swirling around in circles. The huge Haunter made to pull further back, but got caught up in the tornado that spawned under it, a massive, towering twister springing into existence and dragging dozens of howling Ghost-Types into its tearing winds. The Black Fog still didn't seem to take any actual damage, but it was held in place for a second.
More than enough for three streams of orange flame to streak across the distance and hit the whipping storm.
BOOOOOOOOOM!
The Pokémon Tower shook as the Twister exploded, a tremendous pillar of billowing flames roaring to life as the Dragon-Type enhanced tornado lit up like a bonfire. The mist that hung so heavily was blown back by the shockwave, a whole horde of ghosts losing their physical shapes under the force and heat. The cold air was eradicated and became uncomfortably hot, forcing me to avert my face from the conflagration. A shrieking scream filled the air, the fiery tornado flailing and moving as the Black Fog fought to escape. The column bulged oddly before exploding once more, a shower of sparks hanging in the air for a moment before they were snuffed out as the fog came rushing back in, a smoke cloud hanging in the air.
A shiver went down my spine as the temperature dropped again, plummeting past what it had been before, my breath visible as a vast shadow moved in the smoke.
The Black Fog was shaking as it reappeared, patches of toxins whipped clean in a different way than its previous semi-coporalism. Steam rose from its fraying form and plumed out of its gaping mouth. Titanic red eyes were glazed over as it continued to shake, pupils so shrunken they might as well have been completely gone.
It didn't take the rest of the Ghost-Types going still for me to realise that it wasn't shaking from fear.
It was rage.
The two Growlithe collapsed to the floor from the ungodly, sickening howl that left the Black Fog, multiple times stronger than the earlier Screech. Betty was still standing, but only for a moment as the immense maw opened further, jaw literally touching the floor, and an ocean of purple winds poured forth in a torrent. I had only a moment to see it before my vision was obscured by blue scales, Betty shielding me from the Ominous Wind with her body. Distortion tore at my clothes and screamed in my ears as it rushed past, before the tidal wave finally ended.
Looking up, my heart dropped to my stomach at the closed eyes and open mouth of Betty above me. It was the first time I had ever seen the Bagon unconscious, and the sight shook me more than I'd have thought.
Recalling her, she was quickly followed by Sol when I saw the similarly unconscious Growlithe – I presumed that Growly being gone meant that Gary had already done the same.
Panting, I took stock of the situation. On the plus side, the other Ghost-Types had been blown clear as well, and judging by the lingering patches of thick Distortion, many of them had been 'killed' or whatever the fuck happened to ghosts. We were still outnumbered 100-to-1, but progress was progress.
Unfortunately, I couldn't see Squirty anywhere, so the Wartortle was probably down. Taking the unexpected opportunity, I opened Siren's ball to see if she could still fight, and then returned her instantly when I saw the purple lips and dull scales.
I fucking hated poison so much.
That left us with Hercules, Graveler, Clefairy, Pidgeotto, Sandslash, and Onix. Six out of the 14 we started with. Turning to Rick in order to see if his Onix could maybe pull off another Dark Pulse, my already aching heart stopped for a moment.
"Rick? RICK!"
The heavyset man didn't respond, lying on the floor in a crumbled heap. Blood leaked from under his long hair, and what I could see of his face was pale under the beard. Sandslash stood over him, and that was all I had time to see before Onix curled around the two protectively, tightening its massive body into a gapless shield and taking them out of the fight at the same time.
Leaving us down to four out of 14.
Fuck me.
"NO!"
Swinging my head around, I cursed like a sailor when I saw the small pink Pokémon surrounded by Ghost-Types as it toppled over, the Clefairy going down to the part Poison-Types around it.
That would've been bad enough, but when the red beam of a PokéBall was blocked by a Duskull, I knew it was about to get a lot worse.
"GARY, DON'T!" My words fell on deaf ears, the boy sprinting into the mass of miasma with a wild look in his eyes, throwing himself over Clefairy and covering the Fairy-Type with his body. The surrounding Gastly and Haunter cackled at their new toy, jabbing the boy with poisonous limbs. Purple marks spread across his pale skin as the twisted gases did their work, and I knew the only reason he didn't die in the first few seconds was that they weren't done tormenting him.
"PROTECT HIM!" I called out to anybody who could hear, to almost no response. Onix was an unmoving pile of rocks, curled around Mountain Man Rick, Selene, and Rick's Sandslash. A few Misdreavus and a Mismagius hovered around them, pain and fear-inducing whispers hammering the sedimentary snake.
Hercules and Graveler were back to back, six pairs of hands smashing through ghost after ghost, clouds of Distortion left in their wake.
For all the good that did.
The ones disturbed by Herc's Thunder Punches, at least, were forced to retreat for a bit to recover; however, Graveler might as well not have bothered for all that its attacks did. A loud fart noise left the wagging tongue of a particularly large Gastly, one of the Rock-Type's fists sticking through half its face, before it was sent screaming into the mist by a Shockwave from Herc that bought them a second before a new horde was upon them
Up above, Pidgeotto was forced to abandon its attacks, swerving and dogging frantically as its pursuers grew closer and closer, black and purple marking more and more of its body as it got slower and slower.
Alright, Peri, going to have to do it yourself.
I made it all of seven steps before I was yanked to a stop by something grabbing hold of my hand from behind. Whirling around, I was met by a crooked rip in black fabric shaped like a grin, bared teeth yellow, a zipper hanging from the corner of the giant mouth. Above, crimson eyes with a black slit for a pupil shone gleefully as I tried to tear my fingers out of its grasp to little success.
Floating backwards, the Banette didn't seem to even notice my struggles as it dragged me away from the others and further into the swirling mass of ghosts surrounding us.
I'd had pretty good luck throwing down with Pokémon, but it was the first time I was on my own against a fully evolved one, and the difference was stark. Any thoughts in the back of my head that I was getting close to people like Bruno vanished when the pure Ghost-Type yawned mockingly, hiding its mouth with one hand while still pulling me along with the other.
It was like trying to stop a train with my hands.
Seeing no other option, I stopped resisting and jumped at the Banette, at least catching the bastard by surprise as its eyes widened before my forehead hit it between the eyes in a headbutt.
The Banette seemed stunned for a moment as my skull sank about an inch into its own before rebounding without doing any damage. Our eyes met before it grinned even wider and reared its head back as I'd done.
CRACK!
My nose shattered in an explosion of blood against the suddenly extremely hard face of the Banette, my vision swimming as I stumbled back. I had a brief moment to hear the cackle before it headbutted me again, sending me to the ground.
CRACK!
Blood poured down my face and roared in my ears. Copper stained my tongue as I bared my teeth in disbelief and sheer fucking rage, untrained, useless fucking aura rippling through my body while I bashed my forehead into the floor in frustration.
Again.
It was happening again. Every godamn time I did anything, anytime I thought I was moving forward or getting stronger, something came along to kick my teeth in.
Kurt.
Proton.
The Lab.
Mt. Moon.
The S.S. Anne.
I was so tired of getting kicked around. So unbelievably, bone-deep, fucking done with having to just watch as others around me got hurt for me or because of my actions.
I had to do better. I had to protect them.
I would protect them!
They placed their trust in me, and if I had to wade through poison and Distortion until all my flesh melted off to repay that loyalty, then so be it!
My fingers graced something on the floor, something cylindrical. A long tendril of some sort wrapped around my forearm, but I didn't care. There was nothing but mindless emotion in my mind as I grasped it and whipped around, screaming as I swung the long stick-thing at the Banette, nothing but a primal drive to protect the little family I'd started building for myself.
The ghost screamed in pain as its doll body was carved open, a glowing purple line bisecting the Ghost-Type across the middle. Energy rushed from the wound; the physical body the Banette needed to stay in the physical realm tore and leaked its true essence. Clawed hands tried to pull the rip closed, but were unable to do anything as the deep purple object in my hands came back around to slice open its neck.
With the sound of air leaving a balloon, the Banette threw itself backwards to avoid a third cut, almost black energy lingering in the air like blood in the water as it fled the fight entirely.
Panting and swaying, exhausted and almost certainly slightly concussed, I looked down at my hands as the purple left the object. Purple eyes reflected back at me from the blank metal, a double-sided blade resting in my hands. The bottom of the sword widened into a thick, golden guard with a slit in the middle and a golden handle. Attached to that handle was a long blue ribbon that widened towards the end and was currently wrapped around my forearm, anchoring the blade to my arm.
As if it felt my gaze, the slit in the middle of the guard moved slightly and opened, a bright blue eyeball with a black, slit pupil looking up at me. We stared at each other for a heartbeat that felt like an eternity, something lightly brushing against me in a non-physical sense I usually associated with Psychics, before the Honedge closed its eye again and rested easily in my palm.
I stared down at the sword-shaped Pokémon, feeling the surprisingly light weight and incredible balance of the Steel/Ghost-Type.
I-wha-...
Whatever. It was something, and that was what I needed in that moment. The rest could come later.
As soon as I held it up against the ghosts that had been watching me, black-purple Distortion leaked from the Honedge and coated the blade in a Shadow Claw. Eyes blinking rapidly, covered in blood, and lit up by the unearthly light, I was sure I looked quite insane, but there was still a deep sense of satisfaction when the ghosts backed up a little.
It was almost as good as when the first Shuppet fell apart under Honedge's blade.
Carving through them, it soon became more me chasing them than the opposite as the weaker Ghost-Types fled in the face of something that could actually hurt them. The slower ones were sliced apart, Gastly screaming as they imploded with a pop!, the whines of Misdrevus ringing in my ears as they dissolved. If they had ganged up on me, I was sure they could've killed me quite easily, but the inhabitants of the Pokémon Tower – or at least the Black Fog's subordinates – took after their leader.
As soon as they were faced with something that could actually hurt them, they turned into cowards and fled with their tails between their legs.
Oh, how I longed to chase each and every one of them down. I wished I could spend hours hunting them and showing them what happened when you fucked with me and mine, introduce them to Betty in a one-on-one setting.
But I had different priorities. Dripping with sweat that threatened to freeze on my skin, I made it to Onix's massive bulk, where Herc and Graveler had been forced as well. Shaking off the hands that tried to pull me behind them, I charged on, swinging Honedge around like a maniac to clear them away from Gary. The prone boy was in remarkably good shape for how many Pokémon he'd been surrounded by, but as he recalled Clefairy and Hercules and Graveler covered our retreat back to Onix, I knew that was on purpose.
The grunts didn't have permission to kill us.
Sharp clacks atop the still Rock-Type heralded Pidgeotto being left alone as well and landing atop Onix, the massive avian bowing over in exhaustion. I hadn't known birds could sweat, but liquid dripped from soaked feathers, the bulky Flying-Type having been forced to stay on the move since the battle began. Herc and Graveler were doing better, stamina beasts that they were, but even then, it had been a long battle.
And it wasn't over.
The ghosts kept their distance, swirling around as a vast shadow reformed above them. The horde parted as the Black Fog, smaller and much more real than I'd ever seen it. It still towered over us, each tooth in its mocking grin longer than my arm, but it was a solid black, having forced its miasma together as a normal Haunter would.
I was sure it made it more vulnerable, but we were in no position to take advantage of it, and I imagined it also made it a lot more dangerous.
Plus, how'd you eat without being physical?
It approached slowly, casually, bobbing side-to-side in a way that reminded me of a human skipping. Fuck, it even did a twirl as it came to a halt before us, the remaining Ghost-Types cheering at the little performance, though it was far from as loud as they had been in the beginning. The Black Fog seemed to pick up on that as well, twisting its head 180 degrees without moving its body to glare at the crowd, getting a much louder response that made it turn back around with a pleased expression.
What a drama queen. It really, really sucked that the fuck would be the one to kill me. Why couldn't it have been something cool?
At least it wasn't Proton. I would've killed myself if that's how I died.
Taking a deep breath, I concentrated as best as I could and held up Honedge point first towards the Haunter, Hercules on my left, and Graveler on my right. The massive ghost held up its hands and shook in faux fear to another round of laughter, the spectators having learned their lesson and dialing the volume to eleven.
I briefly thought about giving Honedge to Herc, as the Electabuzz was a lot faster and stronger than me, but the ribbon around my arm tightened at the thought, and I abandoned the idea. I had a vague idea of where the ghost sword had come from, and if it wanted to go down in my hands, so be it. It was highly unlikely it would change much anyway,
Apparently finally having had enough of grandstanding, the Black Fog suddenly surged forward, jaws stretching grotesquely to swallow all three of us whole. Stepping forwards I judged the distance and swung Honedge to hit it before it hit us. Glowing rocks and a Thunder Shock sped past, but even though they actually managed to do damage that time, the Black Fog tanked through it and came down upon us.
Might as well get one more in.
The edge of the sword passed inched from the giant mouth, and I wanted to close my eyes in disappointment, having wiffed the last opportunity I'd ever have.
Until I noticed the reason I'd missed: the Black Fog had stopped moving.
The stench of rot and toxic waste blew in my face as the cavernous maw hung open over me, quivering as the Haunter tried to surge the last bit forward and swallow us up. Its eyes darted around to look for the source of its sudden immobility, and I followed its gaze down its huge body to its tail. Somehow, the ending appendage had sunk into the ground, a large pool of black spreading across the floor and holding the old nightmare in place.
"Oho. Seems I finally got you, coward. Just needed some tasty bait."
The Black Fog's already huge eyes bulged ridiculously as the hoarse voice of an older woman echoed through the mist.
The spectating ghosts reacted much worse.
Screams and shrieks, almost as loud as the fire tornado from earlier, filled the air as over a hundred Ghost-Types suddenly ran for their lives. They dove into every shadow available, hid behind whatever tombstones hadn't been knocked over by the battle, and those who were too slow for that clasped their hands over their eyes and lay down on the floor in what I could only call the ghost version of fetal position.
The sharp crack of a cane on stone slowly grew louder as silhouettes emerged from the fog.
"Tch, look at the mess you've made, you old bastard. Who do you think is gonna clean this up, huh? That's very unkind of you, making so much work for my girls."
A somewhat hunched figure walked in front of the group, pale wooden cane banging against the floor. Whitish blonde hair crowned her head, a trio of ghostly blue Will-O'-Wisps circling above like a halo and casting deep shadows over her wrinkly face. A lavender dress clad her body as she slowly approached, with a large gem in the neckline and a white, apron-esque piece of clothing over it.
Under and behind her, her shadow stretched much too far, a titanic void-like hole in reality that undulated unnervingly.
On either side of the too-dark shadow walked a line of five other women, 10 in total. I had to rub my eyes at what I was seeing, but the sight remained the same. All 10 of them were wearing the exact same black kimono with lavender and purple flower print, a black veil hiding their faces. All of them were the same height and walked at the exact same speed in an eerie display.
What in the world? Were they clones of Mito? Was Mito a clone? Was that the old lady I saw on the porch in Lavender?
My head hurt, and not just from the broken nose.
"Seems only fair if I'm terribly unkind to you as well, doesn't it?" The old woman cackled, completely immune to the glare from the monstrous Haunter.
The Black Fog didn't take well to the comment, swinging a massive arm towards her with a howl. I jerked forwards instinctively as she didn't move, sure I was about to see her smeared across the tiles.
Instead, a swirling hole of voidish purple opened up before her and swallowed the fist all the way up to the wrist. Reality itself shuddered around the 'portal', the air vibrating with the amount of Distortion packed into the technique.
The Black Fog screamed as it tried to rip itself free, its other hand flailing around before it, too, was caught in a hole in reality. Trapped by all three limbs, the ancient horror that had terrified Lavender and beyond for decades – centuries, I was starting to believe – was completely stuck, unable to move. The half-Ghost-Type mist vibrated with its shrieks of fury, its jaw falling as it prepared its massive Ominous Wind-
-part of the woman's shadow darted forwards, a colossal hand of black reaching up and grabbing the Black Fog by the jaw and slamming it shut. The huge eyes widened as Distortion exploded from where its nostrils should be, the Haunter shaking as its own attack ran wild inside itself and wrecked its body.
"Now now, none of that." The woman was still moving forwards, the black-clad girls following behind her loyally. "How many years have we been doing this? Feels like a lifetime. It's almost sad, you know. This being the end." The woman reached into the pocket of her apron and retrieved an UltraBall, the black and yellow ball shining in the reflected light of her ghostly crown. For the first time, I saw fear enter the Black Fog's eyes as it shook and fought even harder to escape its bonds. "Almost, anyway. Don't you worry, I'll take good care of you. Eventually. Maybe. Got some frustrations to work out. I'm sure you understand." Her chuckles had a multi-layered echo, each more twisted and distorted than the last.
Straining as hard as it could, the Black Fog's eyes rolled around frantically as the woman came to a stop right in front of it. Scowling down at her, the roar it let out did little more than blow her hair back as she yawned mockingly.
Suddenly, something else glinted in the enormous blood-colored eyes. It glared at the woman and the girls behind her, then at Gary and me, as it went completely still. A wet gurgling noise of disgust came from deep in its non-solid chest as said breast began expanding, growing larger and larger as the hulking Haunter inflated, still glaring at us with nothing but hatred.
My eyes widened as I realised what was going on.
It was going to blow itself up rather than be captured.
It would sooner die than work with a human.
"So that's how it is, huh?" The previous levity had left the old woman's voice, and I couldn't identify what had replaced it. "Didn't think you had it in you. Good for you, I guess. Spare yourself a lot of pain."
Her shadow stretched again, crimson eyes not unlike the Fog's own dotting the black as it rose in a bubble of semi-translucent Distortion. I could see the Fog through the screen as it continued to grow, soon pressing against the strange Ghost-Type Protect – or whatever it was. All the while, its eyes remained on the woman, not an ounce of hesitation or fear in there, not a single thing to be found other than hatred and disdain.
I had to agree with the woman.
I didn't think The Black Fog was capable of suicide.
I could almost respect it.
Boom!
The explosion was muffled, nothing more than a thump announcing the end of the legendary Black Fog. The oily-black shield expanded with the force briefly before imploding completely, swallowing whatever remains the Haunter left behind with a wet burping sound.
Snorting, the old woman turned to look at us, her pinkish, almost red eyes peering down at us mockingly.
"Awww, did the big ghost scare you? Don't you worry, Aunty Agatha brought plenty of fresh diapers."
Agatha, Ghost Mistress of the Indigo Elite Four, simply cackled again at the glare I gave her, sounding way too much like the Black Fog for my taste.
How illegal was punching Elite Four members?
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This illness is kicking my ass, and I'm not super pleased with this chapter, but oh well.
Honedge has been born, fun stuff.
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.