I am the dark.

The world fears me, I know. Their little children, huddled in their blankets at night, are actually afraid of me. The unknown, the shadows, the nightmares are all me.

Of course, she would laugh if she ever heard that somebody is scared of my presence.


Islands are lonely once you think about it. I can only see vast, shimmering seas stretching out in every direction. No fishies to torment, no bugs to snatch away in the blink of a human eye. There are sometimes black droplets of water raining down, but all they do is make mud.

The puddles look squishy, by the way. They look squishy. I couldn't tell you if they felt like it or not because I pass right through them.

Mind you, I am not, absolutely not, a ghost. There are enough in this world as it is, constantly pulling pranks on the petty humans, just there to take up space. No, I am much more powerful than any other ghost would be. Don't tell that to ghost-dragon, though.

So islands are lonely, even if you have an island neighbor with you. Not that she's any fun. She thinks teasing trainers are the perfect pastime, and goes out of her way to do it. And when I try to do any games with them, she completely blocks me.



Even though I have no stomach, I get hungry, too. Hungry for nightmares.

Tonight was the new moon, and I don't mean any books for your obsession. I mean when the sky was solid black like …since when do I have to be good with such language? Anyways, no starlight was shining through the blanket of night clouds, and it was pitch-black, at least to a human. Hunting for my food was going to be a bit hard when I can't see perfectly. I smile. Finally, an actual challenge that brings the bore out of life.

The landscape was sad from the air, as always. I drift further up, and no glow of her was coming from the next island. She was in the mainland tonight, so my path was clear. I fly—no, glide—above the ocean, towards the glittering expanse of lights far away. When I glance back, I see the familiar sight of my home: two sad little islands floating in the sea, F-L-O-A-T-I-N-G. First comes hate, then comes power, and finally there's world domination in the pokeworld! (Cue maniacal laughter.)

But that's a far-fetched dream, no, nightmare, no, dream of mine. It's a dream, okay? I know my power is too great to rule anything. One touch on a mortal's skin and they crumble to ashes. One mistake into their soft minds and they're haunted forever. Power is truly a curse sometimes.

I'm starving, too.


The city is aging, I know it. The smells that are too faint for humans or mortal pokemon are really clogging the air, horribly mixed in with the sea breeze. I used to wonder why they couldn't smell the faintest traces of blood, the germs attacking their bodies from inside, or anything that was useful. But humans are shut out from the world. They believe what they want to believe, judging people from their appearance, species or whatever, et cetera. Really, if you place two completely different human hands against a light, the shadows are the same.

Five sweaty fingers, one stinky palm.

Humans are humans to me. They're just smelly at best.

And there are a whole lot of them in this city, too. Plenty of choices for my next meal—that's what the fact means to me. Too-young children have happy, abstract-y dreams, old humans are too old to dream anything cool, adults are varied, but the cream of the crop, the children-children, are perfectly scrumptious. I mean, nightmare-filled.

So I'm gliding above the city of lots of ships and sleeping humans when the nearest police officer (they're so annoying) looks up at me. She cocks her head upwards real slow like meat simmering in a croc pot, squinting against the glare of the street lights around her.

I freeze. Breathing in deep gulps of nitrogen, I will my form to just…melt. Cold washes over me, and I'm invisible, thin enough to see through.

"Blasted trainers," she mutters. "They're always flying."

And she continues her patrol.

I literally collect myself and continue my merry way downwards. The harsh smells of rain, scum, and of course, humans are everywhere, but it's worth it. Getting meddled with their lives is a tricky business, since they always want to know more about us awesomeness beasts (legendary pokemon if you want to be boring like her) and think our powers are something to play with. Seriously, pearly-dragon doesn't like to be messed around with. And let's not get started with ghost-dragon.

I am in the suburbs now. The darkened landscape is silent, good for my hunt. Soil is carefully tousled around, waiting for the old people to plant the spring flowers and shrubs into their wake. Basketball hoops seem to be the number one thing today. Ignoring my gnawing hunger, I attempt to pick up a lonely basketball and get a swish shot.

Poof! A dazzling white light explodes, and the basketball is gone. Oops. Some little kid was going to be panicking in the morning.


The sound is just a whisper from inside, but I can hear it. I glance up, and there's a pale face ogling at yours truly. Little kid. But not too little. Perfect.

As I effortlessly pass through the brick walls, he giggles and holds up his teddy bear in victory.

"Fear me—" I stop myself; my creepy voice was getting out of tune. Clearing my voice box, I try again. "Feearrrr meeee…child of the earth…I am the dark, the dark that you fear."

The kid only giggles. Time to end this.

I focus on the power itching to be released from the center of my being. I release it, slow and steady wins the race, and it tucks the kid in an invisible blanket.

He happily falls over to one side, monstrous snores (steel-dragon would be jealous) drifting out into his bedroom. I patiently hover there for a while, sending him further into the deepest parts of sleep. Then the room was peacefully quiet.

"That's right…sleep," I said.

Drawing in the power once again, I mentally tug on his consciousness. Scattered bits of colorful dreams float around…and I suddenly plunge it all down.

"Agggghhhh!" he shrieked.

I can never get used to the way humans scream when I do that. I send his startled parents in the next room to sleep, and then cautiously extract his nightmares.

Careful! Not too fast. I learned that lesson when I accidentally sent the sailor's son to everlasting nightmares. She nicely fixed my mistake, though.

After a long hour, I release my grip on his mind, and the kid sleeps in dreams again. I'm satisfied. Energized. Nicely happy.

And I return back to my lonely island and settle in another month or so. The vast, shimmering seas faithfully crash down into my shore, while they ever-so-nicely lap onto Cresselia's white beaches next door. She gets the treatment because she's…well, Cresselia. And I am Darkrai. If you put us against the same light, we'll look different. Duh.

So where was I? Oh yeah, I thought about my uncompleted simile. It took lots of hard work, but I've got it. The sky was solid black like…me. Ha! Beat that.