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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1510032
The situation escalates as violence breaks out, just as Kiev had predicted...
Act 1: Armageddon
Chapter 3: Forced Betrayal
As written by RememberMe (Joseph Michael Schultz)

Fully expecting a drawn out firefight, I certainly wasn't expecting it to be between myself and the fine acting members of Saffron's 1st Branch Police Department. That's right, just as Kiev had earlier said, I was faced with a small army of men and women that I'd previously thought to be my co-workers, possibly even my friends. These were people that had been cheery and elated mere hours ago, suddenly transformed into emotionless gun-wielding puppets; no trace of expression or humanity remaining in the depths of their soulless eyes. As soon as I exited the interrogation room, a raging torrent of gunfire rushed my way and peppered the surrounding walls. Will and I took our chances as the sounds of reloading caught our ears, quickly dashing into another nearby room. We dove over a poorly placed table as we entered the lounge and kicked it towards the doorway for sheltering cover.

“What's going on?!” screamed Will. “Carlos just tried to kill me and I'm pretty sure that there were others trying too!”

“Damn it.” I growled quietly to myself. “So destruction of the law enforcement is first on his little anarchist shopping list, eh? Well, not me.”

Stealing a small flash grenade from the nearby mangled corpse of an unfortunate S.W.A.T. team member, I hastily made my way back towards the poorly barricaded door and launched the little explosive ball into the hallway. A small burst of sound later and I proceeded to jump over the wooden table, opening fire on our numerous attackers. And I mean NUMEROUS. Quite to my surprise, there were at least eight of them, effectively prompting me to retreat back into the previous room and reset the now very splintery table.

“Alan, were running out of furniture to protect ourselves with!” yelped Will as another chunk of table was reduced to sawdust. “We need to go; right now!”

“Then follow me for 'the rematch' and don't hold back!” I responded gruffly as I slid another clip into my gun. “And grab the rest of those flash bangs! We're gonna throw an entire solar flare out there and see if that grabs their attention!”

“Right!” retorted Will; complying as he took to fetching the bombs.

With the both of us parallel to the hallway but still safely within the room, we proceeded to bounce flash grenades off of the adjacent wall and towards our eager enemies. One after another, we dealt out a total of six blinding distractions and then leapt out of the room once again. With my 50 caliber overcompensation in hand and Will cautiously backing me up, I began to unload a steady rain of pain. The stunned officers, blinded and disoriented, didn't stand a chance. I hit one in the neck and another in the eye, instantly sending them both tumbling to the floor. Will, wielding Saffron City's standard issue 9mm, struck one in the chest several times, eventually bringing him to his knees. One of the men attempted to return fire, but could only manage a few random shots into the ceiling and walls, haphazardly pulling the trigger over and over again. Will replied swiftly, deftly spinning around on his heel and squeezing off one more shot, hammering a bullet directly into his crazed target's nose. As the last of them fell to the floor, forever silenced and numb, I thought about the people that I'd just killed and the fact that I'd never see any of them ever again. Sadly, with the high amount of adrenaline currently pumping through my veins, these heavy thoughts of guilt and self-loathing didn't have the time needed to properly fester, though I most certainly deserved to feel like a complete piece of murdering shit.

“Will!” I shouted bitterly; nervously lighting a cigarette. “We're going to the Chief's Office next! Get back into the lounge and salvage as much of that S.W.A.T. member's body armor as you possibly can! When you're done, get back out here and bring the Plexiglas riot shield with you!”

“Sir!” replied Will; he too clearly energized by an adrenaline rush.

I stood guard in the hall while Will gathered the materials, jumpily pivoting around every few seconds in case any hostiles were to get the drop on me. At the very least, if I managed to get the killing shot on someone who had already killed me, Will might stand that much more of a chance.

“I'm ready!” announced my partner as he handed me a dented riot shield. “Do you want me to take the front, or follow from behind?”

“You've got the back, rookie.” I smirked apprehensively; a minor attempt at lightening the crushing atmosphere. “I've got the shield; I'll take the front.”

“Then why did you have me grab all of this armor?” questioned Will pensively.

I shot a glare his way and answered, “So you won't die. Front or back, every position on the squad is dangerous, especially when there are too few men to keep watch over every direction.”

“Oh.” he stammered.

“Whatever, let's move!” I shouted as I proceeded to make my way down the beaten hallway. “Ed could be in trouble, so let's be quick about this!”

“Yes, sir!” returned Will firmly; his usual level of cowardice notwithstanding.

Carefully making our way down the bending corridor, we came upon the bullet beaten double doors that were the entryway to the department's main lobby. In light of the struggle that ensued the very moment we opened the door and tried to exit the interrogation room, I decided to take advantage of our current situation and think ahead. Pressing an ear to one of the doors, I scanned for any recognizable voices. Peering through a crack in one of the cloudy bulletproof windows, I searched for any recognizable bodies or faces. Finding a veritable mountain of nothing, I motioned for Will to follow me as I pushed open one of the doors and continued onward. They lobby seemed in worse condition than the previous hallway, with bodies strewn about like garbage and pieces of broken rubble creating something of an indoor obstacle course. Making sure as to avoid stepping in anything currently on fire or covered in entrails, I made my way towards Ed's office. With the door still largely unscathed and intact, I had high hopes as I again moved in closely and attempted to skillfully listen through the sturdy piece of solid oak. The aggravated grumbles and groans of an irritated man could be heard from the other side; clearly the sounds of my constantly angry and endlessly judgmental superior.

Knocking twice on the door, I beckoned, “Ed, are you in there?”

A sudden rush of wind blasted past my face as the door flew open, revealing the bloodshot eyes of an extremely upset, confused, and flabbergasted Blastoise. Grabbing both Will and I by our shoulders, Ed pulled us into the small office and promptly slammed the door shut again. His face had an expression of both sorrow and rage plastered across it..., and I knew why.

“What in the Hell has happened to my station?!” roared Ed as he sunk his fist deep into his particleboard desk. “Everyone's gone insane; some working together as a team to flush out and kill the innocent, some just losing complete control and killing each other! What the fuck is going on?!”

“Chief, calm down, we've gotta get out of here.” I stated in return; jabbing him in the side. “I can explain, but it'll take some time and we really don't have the luxury of wasting any at the moment.”

“He's right, sir, we need to leave as soon as possible!” shouted Will as he looked through the blinds that covered the windows. “I can't believe this, there are rioters out there flipping cars and torching buildings! This is not a good time for the police to be on a forced permanent hiatus!”

“Yeah, it's all gone to shit.” grumbled Ed fervently. He looked as though he were reliving a horrible flashback. “And it was all so sudden too. Jackson, out of nowhere, just pulled a gun on Thompson; killing him right on the spot, without hesitation. After that, everything just fell apart like a house of cards. Richards raided the S.W.A.T. team's quarters and stole some of their equipment; used the grenades to flush out anybody who was hiding. Ferguson and Kempton marched through the upper level offices with a couple of shotguns. Hell, even Zanders turned on me! My motherfucking Deputy turned on me and tried to kill me!”

Ed slouched into his chair and buried his face in his calloused hands. In an attempt to look away, knowing with the utmost certainty that he didn't want to be seen in a state of weakness, I tried to stare at the barren floor. The only problem with this plan was that fact that the floor wasn't barren, but was instead covered in a thick coating of sticky, smelly, scarlet blood. Following the trails and pools back to their original source, my gaze fell upon the once strong and now lifeless body of a Hitmonlee. It was Johnathon Zanders, the Deputy Sheriff; a bullet wound to the jugular being what silenced him for good. An excellent shot made by an excellent marksman, but probably the one shot that Ed has ever wished to take back. I turned to face my friend, who although I couldn't tell or read from his outward appearance, must have been committing mental suicide over and over and over again. Killing in self-defense is pretty hard; killing a friend in self-defense is next to impossible; but killing a lifelong friend in any way, shape, or form must be something similar to killing another part of yourself. I knew some of the officers that Will and I took down, but not on a level of friendship like that of Ed and John. They were like father and son, as close as it can get without being 'questionable' or rated NC17. I didn't want to agitate him or stress him any more than he already was, but I had to do something. He was someone that I could save, another friend that I could trust, and I didn't plan on abandoning him any time soon.

“Ed, during the interrogation, my suspect mentioned something about brainwashing or mind control or something of that nature.” I stated solemnly. It felt wrong the whole way through, but I knew that giving him a shot at revenge was going to be the only effective method at getting him out of here.

Removing his hands from his face, Ed replied, “Mind control?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I answered quickly, trying to speed things along. “Through the use of advanced hypnotism or some other kind of psychic power, someone might be putting the idea of anarchy into everyone's brain.”

Ed's eyes immediately regained their sharp focus as he jumped up from his seat. He rushed towards me and grabbed my shirt, vigorously shaking me by my collar.

“Are you telling me that we can find the foolish fuck that caused all of this?” he muttered uncontrollably; his eyes becoming wild and vengeful. “Is that what you're saying?”

“Yes.” I answered.

Immediately releasing me, Ed promptly rushed over to his desk and retrieved a well weathered pistol. His trusty Springfield XD40, a 40 caliber semi-automatic; always his first weapon of choice. Then, proceeding to further arm himself, he stomped his way over to a rusty steel locker and withdrew from it a standard issue shotgun. Donning his favorite baseball cap, Ed smirked sinisterly as he effortlessly kicked through his office's reinforced door and shattered the bronze hinges. A big man with some big feet and a big chip on his shoulder; the door never even stood a chance.

“Well, Alan?!” barked the Chief; ready to take on the whole world if he had to. “Let's go, we don't have any time to lose! I've got a new suspect to apprehend and a future execution to personally attend! If you want, you can try to explain the situation along the way, though I can't say whether or not I'll be in the mood to listen!”

Grabbing Ed's hand and shaking it vigorously, I smiled and exclaimed, “Boss, I'm glad you're back to normal! Now go ahead and grab anything else that you think might come in handy, because it's high time we got the Hell out of here! The main suspect in the Bibliophile Case, Kiev Mikhail Petrivka, somehow predicted all of this stuff during the interrogation and warned me of someone possessing demonic powers; the guy that I'm assuming is the root cause! So if we're ever gonna see this freak brought to justice, then we'll first have to survive this whole ordeal and seek out Kiev for more information!”

“A strategic retreat, huh?” spat Ed angrily. “Well, if we lack the necessary knowledge, then I'd have to agree with that plan. If the bastard isn't here, then we'll go and find him!”

“Exactly.” I smirked. “Now let's get down to the parking garage and 'borrow' one of the S.W.A.T. team's armored vans. It's just a hunch, but I'm guessing that all the people rioting and starting fires outside aren't the friendliest bunch, so we'll be needing some transportation that can handle more than a little punishment.”

“And after we escape with the van?” asked the Chief. “Where will we go then?”

Thinking carefully for a moment, I replied with, “We'll go to the train station and hijack one of the high speed monorail cars destined for Goldenrod City.”

With a worried expression, Will pondered critically aloud, “But is Johto even safe? Sure, it's a wholly different country, but who's to say that this calamity isn't widespread?”

To be true, I hadn't thought of that. If Will was right, then we'd just be faced with the very same misfortune once we exited the train, regardless of how far we'd traveled. I had no way of knowing exactly how many were currently assisting in the destruction of modern civilization. Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, maybe even Sinnoh; the whole world could very well be just as dangerous as Saffron was right now. However, as the situation stood, staying here was most certainly not an option, nor was traveling to somewhere else in Kanto.

“Well, I certainly don't intend on trying my luck at fending off every single creep and freak that stands between here and Vermilion.” I laughed morbidly. “Homeland or not, we should focus on getting out of Kanto entirely. It'd be suicidal to stay here, that much is clear to me already.”

Ed turned away from me for a brief moment and remained silent as he contemplated whatever powerful thought had taken the spotlight inside his head. Slowly, he said, “That fat fuck, Kiev? He told you all of this?”

“Yes.” I retorted gravely.

“And you feel that his information is trustworthy?” Ed continued; his tone flat and serious.

Thinking back on what had happened during the interrogation, I shuddered and then replied, “Everything he told me sounded like complete bullshit at first, utter nonsense. Magic, psychic powers, fuckin' telepathically controlled zombie slaves; it all sounded more or less like the kind of cheesy plot devices used in B grade horror movies. However, all that said, it didn't do anything to stop the big guy from demonstrating some of the insane shit he was explaining to me.”

The Chief tried hard to read my expression and came up with a rather grim expression of his own.

“He performed magic?” he asked as he rubbed his chin with his left hand, a nervous tick of his that I had picked up on over the years.

I let out a frightened laugh and said, “I'm not sure that it was magic, but it certainly wasn't something that he should have been capable of. That is, unless you've heard of a Snorlax fast enough to dodge a bullet from point blank range, appear behind you, and then restrain your firing arm; all in less than a single heartbeat.”

Ed's expression suddenly became three shades whiter as his left hand entirely cupped his chin.

“I saw some crazy shit.” I stated; forcefully holding back some rippling quivers in my voice. “I believe everything he said, to the letter, and plan on finding him again.”

The Blastoise paced around the small room for several minutes, still rubbing his chin raw furiously. The fact of the matter was, in all seriousness, that he had to admit to and suddenly believe in some intensely insane things. All of a sudden, his world is blow to smoking bits, and the only way out is follow me and the information that I'd gotten from a serial killer that he'd helped capture. He had to believe in magic. Logic dictates that magic is impossible. He had to believe in psychic resonance. Logic dictates that extra-sensory perception and other abilities of the psychic orient are impossible as well. And he had to believe that nearly everyone he'd ever loved or held dear, everyone that he'd ever cared for, was either dead, dying, or mentally enslaved and trying to kill him. Logic dictates absolutely nothing about that; the heart does.

With a stern glare, Ed crossed his arms and barked, “I'm not ready to believe all of that, not yet. It's too much, way too much, to just take in all at once. Dammit, I'm a regular man, serving as an ordinary cop, in a normal world! My world and the world that you're describing just don't mix! Magic? For fuck's sake, I've been told that shit like magic and sorcery were only fairy tales ever since I was a little kid! I can't just take your word right off the bat and accept everything immediately!”

Frantically, I yelled, “But, Ed, you can't just-

Cutting me off, the big turtle calmly added, “But I'll still join you and I'll still help you. No matter how impossible all of this sounds, it all comes down to one simple truth. If you can take me to the bastard that's at the root of it all, the guy that caused all of this, then I can just take it all in stride. I can ignore all of the impossible, improbable stuff as long as I can put a bullet between the prick's eyes for what he's done. Maybe I'll come to accept some of this shit along the way, maybe not, but I'll be willing to give it a shot and adapt as time goes by.”

Whoa. I certainly wasn't expecting that.

Stunned, I took a moment before saying, “So, even though you don't believe in any of the crap that I've told you, you'll still come?”

With a grin, he answered, “It's clear that something's going on, something unexplainably bad. I haven't a clue as to what, but you seem to. So, if you think that I'm wrong and that everything can be explained, even if explained in a way that I may not yet comprehend, then I'm more than satisfied. After all, seeing as how I seem to know absolutely nothing thus far, I sure as Hell can't get any further from the truth.”

“True.” I smirked.

“And I've also seen my fair share of strange and curious events.” Ed continued; again averting his eyes from my face. “And heard the rumors of latent powers existing in everyone. And listened to the ramblings of the crazed loonies we'd locked up before. And I've even experienced a few things myself; things that can't easily be explained through logic alone.”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed sarcastically, “Yes, yes, it's a weird world; mysterious things creeping around every corner, and yet you still manage to remain a skeptic.”

With an irritated snort, the big guy slugged me in the shoulder and laughed, “And besides, Tiny, you look like you may need someone packing a little more muscle. I mean, what happens when you run out of ammunition and get surrounded by a bunch of thugs with knives and pitchforks and torches? If this is a monster movie scenario, then that's sure to happen, and your munchkin ass will get shredded to pieces in no time flat. You'll need a fighter like me around to save you, right?”

“Sure, sure, why not?” I shrugged nonchalantly. “But until then, you can just carry the bags.”

Still smiling, Ed turned to face Will and inquired, “How about you, Rookie? Do you believe any of the shit that this guy's been spouting?”

“I was in the room when Kiev dodged the bullet, sir, so I think I can vouch for everything he's said.” replied the little orange guy.

Shocked, Ed turned sharply towards me a growled, “What the Hell? You had a willing witness to vouch for that crazy story of yours, but neglected to tell me so?”

“Oh, so you believe me now?” I said smugly.

“No, not really, but it certainly would have made you look less insane!” he exclaimed angrily.

Smacking myself in the head, I sighed, “Do we even have time for this? Look, Chief, if you're gonna tag along, then fuckin' tag along. We've gotta get the Hell out of here; there's no time to argue!”

The three of us all nodded our heads in unanimous agreement and evacuated the office. Moving as a single unit down the halls, we slowly made our way towards the parking garage and the destiny that possibly lay beyond it. Two of us had witnessed the impossible and were willing to accept the strange world that we'd been thrust into. One of us simply didn't care and tried his hardest not to think about it all too much. However, all of us knew what had to be done. Our goal was to survive this whole ordeal and exact sweet revenge against our mutual enemy, though we knew not how to go about doing so or how difficult such a lofty goal would be to achieve.

But damn, it sounded worth it...
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