The Misdreavus Menace

The original version of this story continued from my earlier story, Goodbye, Raichu. However I decided to rewrite the Pokemon Tower version and make it independent.

FWIW © Raichu (raichufan2001@yahoo.com.au) 2006

Part One

Chapter One — A Fright in the Night

It was a warm summer night, and the bright full moon shone patchily through the canopy of leaves and branches, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. The two boys crept cautiously and quietly between the trees. While the mischief in their minds made it an effort to suppress their excitement, they had to be careful not to alert their potential victims.

It wasn't long before one of the boys noticed a worm-like creature, about a foot long, crawling between the shadows.

"Hey, Trav! There's one," he whispered to the other, pointing. "I'm gonna get it!"

The boy lunged forward towards the creature and grabbed it firmly between his hands. He grazed his knees and elbows when he landed, but he didn't care. The pleasure from torturing his victim would outweigh the annoyance of a few scratches.

"Got it! I'm gonna squash it," he told his friend, "after I pull its legs off."

"I like it better when they're Metapod," commented his companion. "I like seeing how hard they can get before I crack them open."

"Stop wriggling," complained the boy as he wrestled on the ground with his squirming captive.

"Matt, did I tell you about the one I caught two weeks—"

"Yeow!" came a scream from Matt. "It stung me."

He jumped to his feet, clutched one hand with the other, and bobbed up and down in pain.

"Matt, don't you know the difference between a Weedle and a Caterpie?" asked Travis, vainly attempting to hide his amusement.

"Ow! Ow! I wanna go back now," replied Matthew, his former excitement now thoroughly dampened. "How can I tell the difference in the dark?"

"Well keep the noise down. If there are Weedle here, then there are gonna be Beedrill around too."

As the two boys quietened down, they noticed an unusual hum. They looked around, but couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Then, all of a sudden, the cool, white moonlight was supplemented with a strange, pinkish glow.

The pair looked up, and through the leaves they could make out an outline of a large circular object floating above the trees. Around its perimeter were several evenly spaced white lights, and underneath it was a bright ring of phosphorescent pink. The odd colour made the trees look even darker than before. The atmosphere was so eerie that both boys visibly shuddered.

The floating object was moving steadily towards the edge of the woods. The two boys looked at each other. Curiosity overcame fear and they decided to follow the strange object.

When they had caught up to it, the pink glow had stopped. It had landed in a small field adjacent to the woods. The pair came up to a large tree at the edge of the woods and peered from behind it. The object was as large as a house, about as high, and dark except for the several small but bright white lights around its circumference.

"Matt," whispered Travis, "let's climb up the tree."

Travis climbed up the tree without waiting for a reply. Matthew tried to follow.

"Can you help me up? My hand's still sore," he whispered.

Before Travis could reach down, a bright patch appeared on the strange object's dark surface, almost directly facing the tree where the boys were hiding. Both boys felt an odd sensation in their stomachs. They could hear their hearts beat in the silence of the night. Travis lay low, resting on a thick branch in the tree. Matt stood quietly and watched from behind the tree trunk.

The bright patch steadily grew in size. When it stopped growing, it must have been several feet wide and about as high. It was not uniformly bright: along the bottom were two dark circular patches. The realization came to the boys that this was not only an entrance into the strange object, but perhaps a doorway into part of an alien world.

The two dark circular patches began to move. Both boys' hearts thumped. Matt's hair bristled. As the thought entered their minds that the dark moving shapes were inhabitants of an unearthly vehicle, they both remained petrified, scarcely able to think.

The two shadowy visitors moved forward. They were not very tall, and their silhouette was oval, nearly circular. The boys heard what must have been the voice of one of the beings:

"Clefairy! Clefairy! ... Clefairy! Clefairy!"

The voice was high pitched, almost squeaky, and definitely not threatening. In fact, its tone conveyed a sense of need and urgency.

"Clefairy! Clefairy! Clefairy!" it continued.

Quite unexpectedly, Pokémon of all description began to approach the craft and to come to a stop in front of the two oval figures. In the glow of the vehicle's lights, Matthew could make out amongst the gathered audience some Caterpie and Weedle, a few Rattata and a Beedrill. He desired to look up and derive some reassurance from Travis's presence, but he dared not take his eyes away from what was happening before him.

The squeaky voice continued its repetition of the same few syllables. Only the intonation varied from one iteration to the next. Gradually, more and more Pokémon were added to the group. As it appeared that no harm was coming to him, Matthew relaxed slightly.

Suddenly, something bumped him on the shoulder. Matthew started in fear and, by reflex, struck the object with his sore hand. He yelled in pain.

What turned out to be a harmless Butterfree ignored him and flew on. The voice of the ovoid creature, however, went silent. Matthew quickly hid himself, his back to the tree trunk, his body tense and fear in his face. His thought turned to Travis— could his friend do something to help him? He stood still, trying hard to hear over his pounding heart the slightest sound that might give him a clue as to what would happen. He heard no sound, not even from any of the gathered Pokémon.

Then he heard faint footsteps. They were slowly coming closer. He felt like screaming but he dared not. Should he stay and hope for the best, or should he run?

The footsteps sounded like they were only yards away. Matthew couldn't take it any more. He decided to run. He began to make a dash back into the forest. After only a few footsteps, he heard the voice again, but it was not repeating the same words. This time it felt like a song, a song that pierced right through him into his soul. But it was not unpleasant: it eased his mind, and calmed his fears. He continued trying to run, but each step felt more sluggish than the last. He took another step, another... one more... The music was soothing, even beautiful... It begged him to stop and listen...

Matthew didn't quite remember when he lost consciousness. The next thing he was aware of was a difference voice, a familiar one, calling his name.

"Matt, can you hear me? Matt, where are you?"

Matthew opened his eyes. He was still in the forest, but something looked different. The shadows had shifted and the moon was no longer overhead. He felt cold, but the pain in his hand had eased. He got up and called out.

"Travis, here I am."

The two found each other and immediately went to explore the clearing where the strange craft had landed. The field was empty. Not a single Pokémon was in sight.

"That's funny. You'd think something that heavy would've left some kind of mark on the ground," Travis pointed out.

"Well that bush over there's squashed," replied Matthew. "But you're right. Hey maybe it was just floating over the grass and never landed all the way down."

"Matt, we've got to get back before we're missed. I think we were asleep for hours."

On the way back, Travis commented, "I bet none of the guys'll believe us when we tell them."

"I wonder what it was all about," wondered Matthew. "You know, I think we better tell the police. Someone should know what we saw."

Travis stopped and looked angrily at Matthew.

"No way! Officer Jenny knows my Mom. If she finds out I've been sneaking out at night, I'll never hear the end of it."

"But Trav, isn't it important?"

"As important as my fist in your face?"

With that, Matthew did not want to insist. "I suppose no-one'll believe us anyway," he reconciled.

The pair walked silently and thoughtfully back to town, then each to his own home and the comfort of his own bed.