Kanto : Going My Way

The Trail To Vermillion - Part 4

He was their protector.
The guardian of the tower.
He protected all the poor pokemon that came to the lighthouse to seek shelter from the cold, dark night outside.
He gave them a roof over the head.
Some food stolen from a certain scientist who lived in the tower. It was not actually stealing because he stole for a good reason. He knew the guy in this lighthouse was filthy stinkin' rich.
And so he provided grub to the pokemon who couldn't acquire some (food) themselves.

And so...He became their guardian. Their protector. Their hero.

But tonight something peculiar was happening...He could feel it.

...He could sense another presence rapidly approaching his home. Unlike the other feeble presences he was so used to sensing normally, this presence was...dark. It was melancholy. He could sense this new presence rapidly approaching tower. This presence...It was not feeble. It was not barely clinging to the body of the being like those poor homeless pokemon who came to him for help. Instead...It was strong.

This presence was...interesting. It was so dark. So melancholy. Like the clouds that were weeping overhead tonight this new presence too wept. It wept but it was silent...Like a child who goes underneath the bed-sheets to cry silently after a harsh scolding from his/her parents. It wept like that. Not showing its tears to anyone but the reflection in the mirror. But there was something else in the presence too...Slowly after crying and crying over the years you eventually run out of tears...The presence that was approaching the tower was also the same...It wept silently and yet...there was a layer of cold fury that surrounded this presence...That hid those tears underneath.

Strong, cold, sad and angry...Yes, this new presence was certainly most peculiar.

For the first time in his long life...He shivered. His torn, ragged pale yellowish cloak fluttered in the harsh wind of the storm as he stood upon the top of the lighthouse watching the figure dash towards the tower.

The figure was of a teenage human. He noted. The human was carrying another reddish orange figure clad in a wet towel. From the top of the tower he could see a small orange flame flickering from the towel wrapped pokemon.

The figure dashed to the door of the lighthouse and roughly banged the door and shouted out, "OPEN THE DOOR DAMMIT!"

He stifled a small cackle that was threatening to escape his lips. He knew the scientist guy that lived in the tower would not open the door until he was done with his experiments. He laughed mentally at the misfortune of the silver-streaked raven haired boy that was banging the door to the lighthouse.

But suddenly...The presence started to become overbearing...His eye widened in shock as he looked at the dark murky purplish outline that surrounded the boy's fist as he prepared an assault on the door.

The presence...It was...radiating such darkness right now. The boy's fist was covered in that ominous dark purple aura. He could feel it better now...Exactly how overbearing this presence was...This presence...It was similar his own reserves. It was so dark...sad...angry...powerful. A very sinister smile slowly crept up the yellowish mask that was his face...This boy he could be what he's been searching for a long tim –

Suddenly the smile dropped and his eyes narrowed. He was forgetting...This boy was only human...Humans were disgusting. This boy may be a strong human very similar to himself but...He was only human. And he was carrying an injured pokemon...What if...this boy was the one who injured that pokemon? Humans were a disgusting species...Not to be trusted. Not be crossed paths with. They hurt his kind. They abused his kind. How could they ever be trusted?