[ EU ] [ PI ] ( Write a horror story set in the pokemon universe ) . The MissingNo Mythos Part 4- The Houndoom of Lindathos

As Mathias and I got into the squad car and Ishik, Rita, Marcel and Haro got into the van and we exited the parking lot, I finally turned to Mathias and asked. 
 
 `` What did you do to those people?'' 
 
 `` Over the years I've honed my psychic abilities to the point where I can erase memories and implant false ones in people, provided they have n't had some sort of mental training or conditioning to resist the attempt. In this case, I erased any memory of the creature attacking, and all they remember now is a verbal argument between your men, Marcel and Haro, that spilled out into the hallway, at which point you intervened.'' Mathias replied. `` I'd rather not have other innocent people getting dragged into this.'' 
 
 `` Are n't you worried about causing brain damage?'' I replied. Altering a person's memories had to cause some sort of mental trauma. 
 
 `` Only if I have to do it repeatedly. And it's not the largest group of people I've ever done it to. But that's not important right now. We need to find a way to deal with that beast that's following us. If we do n't, it wo n't until every last one of us is dead.'' He replied. 
 
 Before I could ask my next question, he continued. `` Do you remember that yard of large warehouses that we passed by, about two miles back? Let's head back there.'' 
 
 `` You have a plan?'' I asked. 
 
 `` I do. I just hope it works when we get there.'' He answered. 
 
 `` Would yo stop u mind telling me what that creature is?'' I finally asked. 
 
 `` I had some doubts at first, but after it attacked us in the hotel, I'm sure of it. How it suddenly appeared and disappeared, why everyone said they saw something different, and even the chemical burns on Marcel's and Rita's Sceptile's flesh.'' 
 
 I pulled out of the parking lot and headed back towards the main highway, with Haro and the others following closely behind in the van. 
 
 `` They do n't have a proper name. But most sources I've read call them, `` *The Houndooms of Lindathos*.'' They exist in a realm before the beginning of time and rarely venture out unless someone either intrudes upon their domain or witnesses some point and place in time- past or future- that they were n't meant to.'' 
 
 `` What, you're saying this thing came from the past to attack us?'' I asked. 
 
 `` Throughout history, man has on several occassions, by various means, managed to traverse through time. The Houndooms of Lindathos are essentially guardians of the timeline. If they detect anyone who arrives at any point in history that no human eyes were ever meant to witness, they'll pursue them across time and space itself, and they wo n't relent until he's been killed and history is rectified.'' 
 
 I glanced over at him to see that he was looking through one of his books. `` The fact that they appear as something different to everybody is because their true form is utterly incomprehensible to the human mind. It having the appearance of say a Houndoom, like you claim you saw, is the most common one cited throughout recorded history, but they've also been described as looking like Arcanines like Haro said, or a Mightyena like Marcel claims. I've even read reports of people seeing them as mutilated Rapidashes. The form you see if basically a defense mechanism of your own mind, imposing a false pattern recognition in a last desperate effort to make sense of what its seeing, because it ca n't understand it otherwise.'' 
 
 `` So how do we kill it?'' 
 
 `` We can wound it, but they ca n't be killed outright. But I know of a rite that'll remove our scents from its memory and banish it back into the timeline. The problem is we have to trap it to work.'' 
 
 `` How do we trap something that can teleport? You saw it disappear in the hallway.'' I retorted. 
 
 `` It did n't teleport. They do n't have that ability, at least not in the same sense as say, an Abra. The thing is, they can only enter and exit the physical world through corners- three-dimensional right angles. Otherwise, they ca n't survive in our world for extended periods of time. Just minutes at the most.'' Mathias explained. 
 
 `` Are you saying that the only reason that thing stopped trying to smash its way into my windshield earlier was because it was worried about running out of time?'' I asked. 
 
 `` Indeed.'' Mathias replied. `` If they find themselves with no way to exit the physical world, they begin to weaken, and eventually the disappear and return back to before the beginning of time.'' 
 
 Everything Mathias was telling me seemed like abject nonsense. But given everything else we'd encountered so far, I was inclined to believe him. It made as much sense as anything else I'd seen lately. 
 
 `` The good news, however,'' Mathias continued, `` Is that curves are a barrier to them. If a surface is bent out of its 90-degree shape, they can no longer enter our world through it. And if they encounter a curve, then both their way in and out becomes blocked. And that's given me an idea on how to stop it.'' 
 
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 We reached the block of warehouses that Mathias had mentioned. The complex was closed, but the simple, sliding chain-link fence was no match for the ramming power of the police van that simply knocked it over. If there was any alarm system set in place, it did n't activate as the front gate was destroyed. 
 
 `` What are we looking for, Matt?'' I asked Mathias as we began driving in between the warehouses. Even though I could n't see it, I had felt the malignant gaze of that horrid thing the entire way here. No doubt it had followed us and was searching for some means to catch us off-guard again. 
 
 `` Where would the largest warehouses be in the complex?'' He asked as he hurredly turned the pages of another one of his books. 
 
 `` In the back of the property.'' I responded. 
 
 `` We need to find one with construction materials. Concrete mix, paint, sheet metal. We'll definitely need several large pieces of sheet metal if this idea's going to work.'' 
 
 Breaking into the warehouses was no difficult task. Marcel's Machoke was easily able to smash the locks on the bay-doors leading into each building, and luckily, we found what we needed, at least according to Mathias, in the second building. Apparently a construction company was using this particular warehouse to store surplus supplies. As we turned on the lights, we saw rows of shelves with paint cans, tarps and various tools, bags of concrete mix powder, and, much to Mathia's relief, a stack of several layers of sheet metal leaning against one of the walls.
