The dirt hourglass

One breath, two breaths, three breaths-four,

Five breaths, six breaths, seven breaths-eight,

The echo, deafening amidst the cooing of silence.

The cold sensation of the concrete as I run my hand along its surface soothes my raging heart, only to be set ablaze anew by the crowd's roaring.

A drop within the vessel, blood a stream, no-a river, no- an ocean.

I hear it running, galloping like wild steeds atop the winding, endless plains,

I hear my thoughts, free like the mighty falcon above,

I hear my heart, strong and burning with unyielding might unfaltering.

Yet my thoughts fade, slipping- rain between my fingers,

A dream? Perhaps! My consciousness, drying up, dark- desolate, devoid of light- nourishment.

Fail? Never!

A string- red, fate?

Tightly woven, my hand- the epicentre.

Consciousness- orbs, fireflies- a swarm, my finger- the nest, a home, a solace amidst endless nothingness.

The mind's eye- my body, a castle- a refuge, my arm- the highway, a connection, my hand- a gathering place.

I feel the soft embrace of life renewed; I taste its sweet nectar.

A forest, animals, flying behemoths, dancing clouds strung by relentless winds, consciousness clearing, was it all an illusion? Confused but never disorientated, grasping but never desperate, hungry but never greedy.

My thoughts clearing, haze leaving, strings untangling, peace settling, conflict fading, memories returning.

I. Am. Awoken.

Badump! BAdump! BADump! BADUmp! BADUMp! BADUMP!

[Anyway, introducing the opponent, from the Kalos region, please give a warm round of applause for REEEX PIEEEEEERCE!!]

Pa Pa Pa

The crisp rhythmic sound of leather shoes hitting the steel floor ignited the stadium with anticipation as the crowd waited with bated breath for his arrival.

All eyes were on the west corridor, shrouded in an impenetrable cloak of darkness. A wind began to blow, quickly picking up speed, carrying the mouth-watering smell of concessionary food.

PA PA PA

Growing closer, louder and firmer, the steps seemed capable of shattering the ground they tread on, producing a hallucinogenic effect.

"Hey, is it me, or is the ground shaking?" A man said with a bewildered expression.

"… N-no, the ground is still," another responded, placing his hand on the floor, "but this feeling, why does my heart feel heavy? God, why is it so hard to breathe?"

Like mockingbirds chirping incessantly, the same conversation is duplicated endlessly.

Harry squinted as his gaze fell upon the entrance draped with curtains of black smoke. Dread crept along the walls of his mind. A ghoul, white hair and blue-eyed, resembling its maker, feasting on the terror within him. Its voice, a gentle murmur, yet words laced with poison.

I AM YOUR FEAR

You fed me well over the years

I dined on all your phobias

your terror-filled tears

I'm behind every nightmare

every footstep in the dark

everything that you hate that scares you

is what empowers me; it's true!

On the darkest night,

On the brightest day,

You shall not hide,

From your despair,

For my judgement is fair,

That is the reality you must bear.

PA! PA! PA!

Snapped- his mind became, cracked- his spirit, a whistle- a hollow tree's last plea.

And from the corridor, the nightmare itself emerged, wearing a pair of shoes so glossy, like a piece of silver under the sun.

Connected, a pair of legs extended and folded within the confines of pinstripe trousers, hands trailing, covered in black leather swinging like a pendulum around the axis of his shoulder. A torso, strapped in a vest and suit jacket, likewise striped and equally dashing.

Akin to the break of dawn, a smile revealed itself, a warm smile, but a distant one, like an untouchable painting, perfect.

Eyes, as blue as the sky, bewitched the senses, a potion to drown the mind. Shrewd and playful, his gaze, a deadly concoction swirling within.

And a blizzard blew atop his head, dancing snowflakes like wildflowers in a meadow, so white, so pure, seemingly uncorrupted by the world's filth.

"Holy fuck! It's the boss!" Kyle shrieked and leapt like a crazed cat having its tail stepped on.

"Kyle you bastard, stop swearing, or the captain will beat you!"

"…"

"He will beat you!"

"…"

"Beat you… HEY OLD MA-"

Hayden angrily turned around only to be stunned at what he was seeing. Captain Rogers was frozen in place, his face twitching slightly before abruptly bursting into a sonorous wheeze, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.

*wheeze~ * "this-this is too much… I… can't breathe…" *wheeze~*

The two soldiers silently stared at each other, unable to decide on how they should react.

"Hey, you think he went mad?" Kyle whispered, pulling his friend to the side.

"Maybe; I mean, he's kinda old, right?" Hayden said, shrugging his shoulders.

Unaware that the wheezing had stopped, they continued to badmouth Rogers, fantasizing about a sexy female captain taking over for the 'old bag of bones'.

"Old bag of bones, ay? I'm going maaad, ay? Oh, you have seen nothin yet!" Rogers exploded, smashing the two over the head with his fist.

Back at the stadium, the crowd boomed with delight at the Greek god below, tall and silent as if becoming one with the space around him. Serenity incarnate.

[Well, look here, another pretender!] James said, a hint of mockery in his tone.

{So hasty James,} Elesa said, giving him a side glance, {let's look at this objectively; surely you've noticed? The most glaring piece of evidence, that is, the lack of a red rose. That alone has been made the trademark of the dark horse by the public. For it to be missing speaks volumes about his intentions. Secondly, just because one wears a suit does not automatically make him a candidate to be Red Rose. You must know that… right? Surely your judgment isn't… oh, I don't know… influenced by emotion, perhaps?} she quipped; contempt filling her gaze.

The crowd instantly cheered as the ears of the commentator turned slightly red with embarrassment.

[You jest, my beautiful co-host, of course I noticed all this. But you are right about one thing.] he said, seriousness emerging in his tone.

Elesa arched a brow, {and what would that part be?}

[I was indeed overcome by emotion, after all, it's not every day you meet such a handsome man, right?]

The crowd froze; even Rex almost shrivelled up and died at his response. Yet he had to admit, the man definitely knew how to redefine the word shameless.

His gaze switched to Elesa, who was equally shocked and speechless, her mouth resembling that of a fish, lips moving, but no words came out.

{Ah- I- anyway, let's move on.} she stammered, pressing the screen in front of her, and a massive hologram appeared.

{As you have both been informed, the battlefield will be selected randomly from a pool containing four choices. Those being Rock, Grass, Water and Ice. Each one has a distinct role to play in the dynamic of the match. Your choice of Pokémon will heavily influence your chances of victory.}

As her words faded, four shapes coalesced on the hologram, a red arrow following which then spun clockwise. A blur at first, it soon slowed down, passing by water, ice and rock before settling on the grass field.

BOOM!

The stadium shook in response before a thunderous sound of gears rang out. Curious, Rex peaked over the edge of his railing down towards the deep crevasse beneath. He could spot a platform shimmering with jade from the depths as it rose.

Clank BANG!

A gust of wind submerged the stadium carrying with it an intense petrichor smell as the battlefield came to an abrupt halt. A verdant prairie one hundred meters squared appeared before the spectators' eyes.

Rex bent down and grabbed a handful, rubbing it between his fingers.

'Real dirt. They pulled out all the stops on this one.' He thought.

Stretching his hand parallel to his face, his voice reverberated in his throat.

"You see this dirt?" he questioned, his spontaneous words attracting everyone's attention, "so many similarities between you two." His eyes slowly rise, locking with Harry's before subtly shifting towards James.

A second puff of wind, sharp and cold, crept along the back of everyone's necks.

Harry's eyes constricted as his gaze toward Rex intensified. They had no quarrel, no prior conflict; why then insult? He couldn't understand, but taking it lying down, he would not.

Rex remained still, unperturbed by the development around him. His hand still tightly clutching onto the dirt inside. His attention was drawn back to it as if it hid something precious within.

"The battle will be a three-on-three; both trainers are allowed to switch between party members, and the winner will be decided when all three pokemon of either trainer are unable to battle!" The referee announced as he held up the red and blue flags.

"Ready?" the red flag pointing at Harry.

"Yes"

"Ready?" the blue flag pointed at Rex.

"Yes", he responded lethargically, his head unmoved, fixated on his hand.

"Then let the battle… BEGIN!"

Whoosh, both flags tore through the air as the horn roared.

"Exeggutor, GO!" Like a gunslinger, Harry's hand shot to his waist before quickly throwing out a red Pokeball.

POP

BANG!

A set of heavy legs landed on the ground with a tremble as a stumpy, multiheaded palm tree appeared on the field.

Rex's face, devoid of emotion, turned towards his opponent, unmoved by the sudden addition.

"You have until the dirt slips between my fingers to take down all three. Go- Scizor!"