Yay! A Sentretcookie Fic! *does the stupid Happy Dance*

Oh, and for all you who are wondering, yes, this was known a Pokemon Alpha on Serebii.net, and it was on Pokemon Crater, too. I'm everywhere!

Oh. And IO don't own Pokemon. Can't forget that.

Also, this fic does cantain a gun *gasp* and one character said a curse *double gasp!*. 'Kay?

Now, on wit da shoooow!

THe Return of the Shadows

Prologue

~*~*~*~*~*~

Rip. Tear. Shout.

The two children watch fearfully, knowing that not even their parents deserve a dark fate such as this.

Crack. Boom. Thud.

The whole neighborhood is silent in the night, still unknowing of what they will wake up to find the next morning.

Scratch. Scream. Flee.

A middle-aged man flees from the place he once called home, knowing that he could never return now that his secret was out.

A shadow of death and despair rested over Kanto and Johto in these dark days of agony and sorrow.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The icy cold rain spattered against the roof of a tall, rundown building in Blackthorn City. The scene was so natural- so... normal, no one knew that if you did enough investigating on the two most recent murder mysteries, all of your evidence would lead you here.

If you stepped inside, and climbed the old, creaky stairs to the closet at the far end of the hallway, then you would have discovered something that would make your heart burst. Something that would confirm that, this was, indeed where the two most recent murders took place. Something would make you cry out in terror- a cry so loud, that it would give away the fact that you were sneaking into this secret base. Then you would be captured, and taken to the leader of this secret organization, where you would surely meet a terrible fate. But, of course, that has only happened once before.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A tall man sat in front of a small desk in the center of a normal-sized office. There were books, magazines, papers, and newspapers strewn across the desk, and there was a small bookshelf on the wall to the left of it filled with old, dusty books. There was very little light in the office-only the light that had managed to sneak through the closed blinds over a large window behind the old desk, and there were two chairs sitting in front of the it, facing the man, as though he would soon have a meeting in the office.

There was nothing very strange about this office- but there was certainly something strange about the man. For the most part, he had grey hair, but there were still a few dark brown hairs visible. He was wearing almost completely black, and the only skin that was visible was that which was on his hands and face. His hands were tightly folded on the desk, though they fidgeted apprehensively. His face was the strangest part of his appearance- or at least his right eye was. Right over it was a large scar.

He slowly ran his hands over it. It was souvenir of his family life, which he had recently given up on. He had to. His wife and one of his children knew. Now he was on his own. But soon that would all pay of. If his calculations were correct, and they surely were, then he would be able to put his plan into action through the foolishness of others. All he had to do was wait to see if he would be rewarded today.

Then, the man's heart leapt. There were noises coming from outside in the hallways. The sound of footsteps-the shouting of three angry male voices, the commanding, deadly sounding tone of one female voice, and the calm, quite, almost whisper of a voice of another man. The man in the office recognized all of the voices but one. But that didn't matter- the only voice he was in was the calm one. He smiled thinly. This was perfect.

When the five figured stumbled into the room, the scarred man had come to a different conclusion. Before, he saw the two people in front, things were good. Now, things were perfect.

The two men in front were the ones that stood out. One of them was tall, and while he wasn't very strong looking, the angry look in his misty blue eyes gave off a dangerous look. He had short, neat blonde hair, and dressed casually in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, and he looked to be somewhere in his late teens or his early twenties.

The other was tall and skinny, with red hair and dark brown eyes. He was wearing entirely black, and he appeared to be somewhere in his late twenties. He was angrily eying the younger man.

The two in the back of theme were identical- dressed in all black, from head to toe, and their faces were hidden in shadow so that nothing could be made out.

In the very back of them was a tall, slender young woman with thick, golden-blonde hair that fell neatly onto her shoulders. She had blue green eyes that had a look of satisfaction in them, and she wore tight black clothing that showed off her beautiful figure.

"So, how did we do?" the woman asked in a voice as beautiful as he appearance.

The scarred man took no notice of this inquiry.

"Potts, Smith- guard the door," said the scarred man in a deep, commanding voice.

The two identical men walked out side the door and quietly closed it. The woman walked into a corner of the room and leaned on the wall.

The scarred man spoke again in a falsely polite tone. "Gentleman, I wasn't expecting you. Please- sit down."

"No thanks, I'll stand," said the younger one coldly.

"Yes, come on, sit down. We don't want to be rude now, do we?" said the older one, in an even faker polite tone.

The two of them sat down, the younger glaring at the older and muttering something that sounded a lot like "damned jerk".

"So, what are you doing here on this fine day?" asked the scarred man.

"That's a question we should be asking you," snarled the younger one angrily.

"Yes," said the older calmly, "we should be asking you that. Do you have the cities permission to be using this building for this kind of activity?"

"What the city doesn't know certainly won't hurt them," said the scarred man quietly, putting on a pair of reading glasses and casually going through the papers on the desk.

"Sure, you wouldn't hurt anyone in this city, because that would make you too easy to track," said the younger one even more angrily then before, "but what about Ecruteak? And Azalea? And New Bark?"

The scared man flinched slightly, running a finger over his eye.

"This is none of your business!"

"Yes, what about New Bark?" said the older man slyly, putting an emphasis on the words "New Bark".

"I'm warning you-" said the scarred man in an attempt to hide his fury.

"About what?" said the young man casually.

"If you say those words in front of me-"

"Which ones? 'New' or 'Bark'? Or just the two together?" said the older one, smiling.

The scarred man collected himself and got control of his rotten temper. "Yes. Those two. Now, let us get back to business. Why were you loitering around here?"

"To catch you, and- oh yeah- to kill you, too." The younger one said casually.

"And why ever would you want to do that?" asked the scared man trying to stay polite and calm.

"Revenge, of course!" said the older one.

"What for?" asked the scarred man, his temper rising.

"For ruining the lives of innocent children by breaking up families," said the younger one, his temper rising as well.

"Yes, you know a lot about that, don't you?" said the older one coldly, smiling.

"I will say it again- THAT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" shouted the scarred man, leaping to his feet, his face turning a shade of purple.

The younger man leapt to his feet, also. "WELL IT IS N-"

But the older one grabbed him. "Mr. Clark- that is quite enough of that. I think we are done here, don't you agree?" he said beginning to stand up.

"What on earth are you talking about? I'll see to it that you never make it out with all of your limbs attached!!"

"Well, I'll see to it that you're wrong," snapped the younger man.

"I'm quite sick of this," added the older. "Ms. Willson, if could be so kind..."

"Finally," scowled the blonde woman, stepping out of the shadows.

"What has this got to do with-" the scarred man began. But he didn't need to finish. The pistol pointed at his head by the young lady answered all of his questions.

"Thanks a lot!" said the younger man cheerily, making for the door, with the older one following.

"Wait a minute," she said, picking up a small bag off of the floor. She tossed it to the older man. "You'll need these."

The two nodded, grabbed a few red and white balls out of the bag, and ran out the door, and into the hallway. Now all they needed to do was be quick enough, and they would be home free.

*~*~*~*~*~

Yeah, a bit darkish, I know. But It'll get alot brighter, for all of you who are wondering and hoping. So that's all for now. It's not gonna take me long to put more up, hopefully I'm already on chapter eleven.

-Sentretcookie, the world's (insert adjective here) author/critic