Hobbes and I trailed after the two rocket grunts, staying far enough back that we couldn’t see their lights, but close enough that their continued conversation carried back to us as faint, indecipherable echoes. The tunnel got rougher as we progressed, and we were clearly in a more recently developed section of the Rocket’s operation. It never got to the point that I had to climb anything, but I found myself stepping over and ducking under protruding rocks more and more frequently. Which, generally, was a good thing — it meant I’d have plenty of hiding spots if we crossed paths with any other Rockets.
Though it was hard to feel appreciative of that fact after I accidentally stepped into an ankle-deep pool of water, my ‘waterproof’ boots not doing much when the water was above the boot’s lip.
Hobbes laughed at me as I squished with every other step, and I considered bumping him into the next pool I saw — a wet costume would be about as uncomfortable for him as a wet sock was for me — but I barely managed to control myself. The noises from further down the tunnel were getting louder — a repetitive, dull thumping that I thought I could feel through the rocks as much as hear — and it wasn’t the time for horseplay.
As the tunnel gradually brightened from the lights up ahead, I once again flicked off my flashlight. Slowly and carefully we approached the bend in the tunnel, prepared to dive for cover if someone decided to come back toward us. Until finally, after a signal from Hobbes that the coast was clear, I peeked around the rock separating me from the lights.
It was another cavern. Smaller and rougher than the previous, and obviously newer, loose rocks littered the ground. It was much dimmer than the first cavern; they still had lights, but there was no cage of voltorbs powering them, so they were all smaller and appeared battery-powered. On the far side of the cavern there was another geodude fusion pounding against the walls with its fists, pausing every couple of seconds to scoop out a handful of crumbled rock and tossing it over its shoulder.
The geodude was fused with something flying, almost certainly with something in the zubat line. Its arms hung down below a body that was much more streamlined than a normal geodude’s, with a pair of recognizable wings extending from its shoulders. I hoped it was a geodude-zubat fusion, and not a geodude-golbat fusion, but I couldn’t be sure. Thankfully, I was positive that it at least wasn’t fused with a crobat, since I was familiar enough with the shape of Kisses’ wings to recognize any crobat fusions at a glance. The two lesser evolutions’ wings, however, looked too similar for me to confidently distinguish them in just a few seconds.
“Hold!” one of the rocket grunts called, who I noticed was now wearing a hardhat, and the geobat paused its punching. “That’s enough. Take five, and then get started on the west wall.”
The geobat gave a bobbing nod before flying to the ceiling and latching on with two tiny, previously hidden feet, its muscular arms crossed in front of its body as it hung upside-down.
“Bring ‘em in!” the grunt called, and a second grunt — Cayden wasn’t sure if it was one of the ones he’d eavesdropped on earlier, as there were more than just the two he’d seen in the tunnel — unlatched the front of a crate meant for a single large dog, and five sableyes tumbled out.
The sableyes didn’t waste any time before dashing for the loose pile of rocks on the ground, sniffing like bloodhounds with their hands phasing through the top layer as if dipping through a pool of water. It didn’t take one of them long to find what they were looking for, and with a call of “Eye!”, it returned to the fully physical world and dug into the piles of rock with a frantic intensity.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Only after it emerged with a tiny diamond in its clutches and frantically tried to bring it to its mouth did I notice the net encircling its face. Or perhaps it wasn’t a net…maybe screen was a better word? It wrapped all the way around the sableye’s head, attached with a black collar that was almost invisible in the dim light against the sableye’s purple skin, and the mesh was too fine for the pokemon to get the diamond through to its mouth.
“Oy! That’s enough, there — into the bag with the rest, number three!” a grunt yelled as he tossed a thick cotton rucksack in the direction of the scrabbling sableyes. He pulled a stun baton from his belt and activated it a few times threateningly, the sableyes flinching from the buzz and flash of electricity arcing between the prongs, before he turned back to the cage. “Ya still in there, number four? Heard you’re in need of another lesson.”
I didn’t notice it at first amid the five other scrabbling sableyes, but there was a sixth sableye, left behind at the back of the cage. It looked practically identical to the rest of the sableyes: it had the same hunched, purple gremlin body, the same diamond-like eyes above a too-large mouth, with an identical mesh screen wrapped around its head. But while it physically looked identical to the rest of the scrabbling pokemon, its mannerisms couldn’t be more different. The other five kept their focus down on the rocks in front of them, refusing to lift their gem-eyes from their tasks and risk making eye contact with any of the Rockets. They flailed about through the rocks, futilely attempting to eat whatever gemstones they came across and being stymied by the screen and the buzzing of another Rocket’s stun baton each time.
This sableye, however, stood tall, or at least as tall as it was able with its c-shaped spine, meeting the gaze of the glaring grunt without flinching. Its claws twitched as the Rocket approached, but it otherwise didn’t react to the zaps of the baton.
“Think yer tough?” the grunt snarled, but I noticed he didn’t move within arms’ reach of this sableye. Instead, he reached for his belt and threw out a pokeball. “Granbull! Go!” he called, and in a flash of red light, a granbull appeared. “You’ll learn yer lesson…eventually.”
The granbull looked confused for a moment, flinching back from the eyes of the too-close sableye before the grunt activated his baton, and the fairy-dog pokemon seemed to realize the situation. Its wide mouth turned down as it let out a low growl, clenching its paws into two fists as it approached the smaller pokemon in front of it.
What followed…was the worst beatdown I had ever witnessed, one I hoped to never have to witness again. Even the most charitable wouldn’t call it a ‘battle’ — sableye had both the evolution and type disadvantage, and only managed a single attempted scratch before it was grabbed by the granbull and pummeled into the rocks. Once the threat was gone, the grunt joined in on what I could only describe as torture, zapping at the downed sableye with his baton next to his pokemon.
I winced with each pained “say” that echoed in the chamber, and retreated after the first thirty seconds of brutality. Even still, I could hear the impacts and cries of pain for another minute before the cave blessedly fell silent.
“Learned yer lesson?” the grunt asked before the sound of the stun baton powering up echoed once again through the cavern.
“Don’t kill it,” another grunt called. “These buggers don’t exactly grow on trees, ya know.”
“Don’t worry. I know its limits,” the first grunt responded before laughing. “It’s given me plenty of opportunities to learn, after all.”
I was about five yards down the dark tunnel from the bend, Hobbes by my side with my hand over my mouth as I held back the tears that wanted to spill forth. But at the sound of the rest of the grunts’ laughter, backdropped by another pained cry of “say!”…something in me hardened.
I took a long, slow breath as the pained sounds from the cavern blessedly fell silent, this time for good, and I held my eyes closed for a count to ten. When I opened them, I met the gaze of Hobbes, his costume barely visible in the dark of the tunnel. In his posture I saw an anger that mirrored mine, with none of his earlier joviality or hesitance.
Good. We were on the same page.
I’d been curious about what the Rockets were doing down here, and had enjoyed acting the part of spy on their activities, but I’d never seriously intended to get personally involved. Our original plan had been to stay hidden, to avoid interacting with Team Rocket at all while we made our escape, trusting the authorities to handle the evil team after we got back to civilization.
But sometimes…plans change.