Coltar: The Prophecy - (Pokémon)

2. The Scars of Marsten Hall

Friday, April 28th, 1989

Silence consumed the streets of Fehahra, except for the occasional footsteps that pierced. The half-moon was tucked in a blanket of clouds. A dim light painted the cobblestone street, only broken up by the purple glows emanating from the Lampent floating up and down.

A pitter-patter of footsteps running on tiptoes down an alleyway echoed in the night, which stopped at a small semi-detached house. The stone bricks were chipped, especially around the wooden door frame. The metal Coltese numbers hung off the wooden door by a single nail.

James pressed his hand against the door. He leaned in and rested his ear against the metal lock. He pressed his thumb and index fingers together and flicked the lock.

"Hurry up, James, you twat. The patrol will be coming around again soon." Lioa leaned against the wall as he peaked towards the street.

Huffing, James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small hairpin. The cobbles under his shoes wobbled as he pushed the pin into the hole in the lock. He pushed the small hairpin up, flicking his wrist a little as he did.

A whirring in the bushes overshadowed the click from the lock opening. The half-moon's shallow light reflected a shine into the street.

Andrew rushed forward and stared into the bush with his green eyes. His cyan curly hair bounced as he took a green poké ball out of his shorts' pocket. He pressed the button on the front of the ball. With the index finger on his right hand, he flicked up the latch and a deino shot out. Her back hood coated her body, making it hard to see her in the dark.

"Nutkio, blast it with fire blast!" Andrew pointed at the bush. The deino opened her mouth, baring her teeth. She took in a deep breath and growled. Fireballs spat out towards the bush in a spiral.

A chirping-whizzing sound screamed out of the bush in pain. A klink rotated in the air, wobbling from side to side. The metal gears, which shined, were dimmed in patches.

Lioa glared at the klink, his eyes narrowed. "Rusto, why in the name of darkrai are you here? Where is the scaredy-meowth, Kitiku?"

"H-h-here..." Kitiku said, pressing his nails into the stone bricks of the house across the street. "W-w-we sh-shouldn't be, um, be out h-here." His stomach churned, and he shuffled his feet, staring at the ground. "I-I c-came to g-get you. I d-don't w-want you to be, um, be arrested."

James got up off his knees and looked at Kitiku. "The Elktan are monsters; these people betrayed us, so they deserve to lose everything. It is the Elktan's fault that Pierre is dead. Or did you forget that? You know what? Forget it..." James pushed the door to the house, and he stepped inside. His eyes scoured the room. James tiptoed across the wooden floor into the living room.

He turned to see Lioa, Kitiku and Andrew behind him. Rolling his eyes, James tiptoed behind the sofa. His eyes locked onto a glass cabinet pressed against the back wall. Rusto's reflection caught his attention as it darted from chair to chair, committing to a barrel roll to reach him.

"Kuti, can you please keep your damn klink under control. We aren't in a spy comic." James placed his hand on Kitiku's shoulder. "I promise, once we got something to sell, we'll go." He pressed gently down on Kitiku's shoulder and helped him down into a chair.

James... James, you want them to pay. You want to kill them.

James's ears twitched. His eyes were drawn to a black string necklace hanging around the end of the stair railing. The floorboards creaked as his feet dragged him towards it. He reached forward, lifted the string, and stared into the stone. "Hey, Li? Come check this out..."