FLOOD [Pokémon]

Chapter 2: The Stupid But Saintly Thing to Do

DARWIN

Thursday, March 15, 2018

Are Sharpedoes supposed to be this big?

No they weren't, and I would know: I'd read its Pokédex entry several times, on nights when it was too hot to fall asleep. A typical bull was supposed to be six feet in length max – slightly longer than I was tall. That's how big they were at the aquarium. That's the biggest I'd ever seen them online, in pictures, in videos. That's how big the experts said they were.

This one was as longer than my mom's sedan, with a maw that could have swallowed me whole without coughing.

But it could've been even bigger, I couldn't be sure — it was hard to see it properly. It was lying on its side at the base of the tall rocky column, half of its colossal bulk hidden by shadows. The other half – the half I could see – was tangled in the same netting covering the column itself. Somehow, part of the mesh had worked its way around the massive Pokémon's snout, and another part was tangled around one of its lateral fins like a noose, squeezing it so tightly that the fin was pulsing blood – it rose in a red smokestack over the Pokémon's body, staining the surrounding water rusty brown... The color I'd thought made this rocky tower look so ominous from afar.

I stared at the enormous creature. Dear god. My legs forgot how to move. In fact, my entire body shut down like a sudden systems failure. Part of me thought of how furious Sergeant Marshall would've been if he could see me right now. You freeze, you die, maggot! I could almost feel him yelling it in my ear, and he was right. I should've been fleeing, swimming back up the cliff as fast as my arms could carry me, focusing on one thing: survive, survive, survive.

Instead, I hung there and shook, breathless with terror. What if I moved and it tore after me? An image of this massive brute sinking its teeth into my middle, cleaving me in half, expanded behind my eyes until it was all I could see. Flying hell. Was I about to die? It seemed inevitable. It was just so f*cking big – had I not been underwater, I might've whimpered.

If I could've cried, I might've done that too.

Actually, I did – I blubbered a little, spewing bubbles. The Sharpedo jolted, coming back into awareness from a stupor no doubt induced by blood loss. Its colossal body twisted as it tried to orient itself, and its eye – as hard and bright as a ruby – spiraled, searching for threats. It settled on me, and my terror became complete – with no pupils and no eyelids, it felt like I was staring into the eye of something straight from the depths of hell, forged in its furious fires. My gorge rose, and I knew that I was within seconds of vomiting straight into my breathing tube.

Run. Maybe if I was fast enough, I could make it to the top of the cliff. The Sharpedo was injured, and trapped in the net; that could slow it down. But doubt assailed me: you didn't run from an angry Ursaring. And you didn't turn your back on a Sharpedo, and certainly not one bleeding from a thousand different wounds. I was a threat, and a tasty meal – it had more than enough reason to gun after me the second I attempted to stroke away.

But how would the outcome be any different if I didn't run? My gorge rose higher: was I chum either way? What do I do?

Trembling, I slowly looked up, hoping to Arceus to see a patrol Pokémon circling up above, searching for anyone that might be in danger. But the water was empty — nothing but rippling light and small pieces of debris floating on the lazy current. I despaired: was I completely and utterly screwed?

The Sharpedo jerked violently.

The net caught it, held it back, but even underwater, I could hear some part of it tear, putting the beast that much closer to freedom and a free dinner. I gagged on my mask as I tried to scream, and only succeeded in releasing another cloud of bubbles. Watching the Pokémon surge upward again was like something out of a horror movie – it hit the seafloor with a muted thud as the net held it back once more, and threw up an eruption of dark silt.