You’ll save your Thundershock for when you need it the most. The pidgeotto flies high in the air, catching a late-day updraft and soring about one-hundred feet into the air. From above, the trees look so small. The forest is beautiful from up here, with rolling hills, the winding river, and green as far as the eye can see. You always wondered what the world looked like to a bird; you guess you know now, even if it is for all the wrong reasons.
A smug feminine voice comes from the pidgeotto, "oh little pikachu, you fucked up. You must be dumber than the average of your kind. That's good, I really need a pick-me-up."
A sense of deep dread fills you; you did fuck up. The pidgeotto now has full control over your life. All she has to do is release her talons and the ground will do the killing for her.
You panic; you can't give up yourself that easily. You prepare to Thundershock, "pika-"
"Bye," she opens her talons.
You instantly fall, disrupting your Thundershock. The forest is quickly rushing up to greet you. You scream, "PIKAAAAAAAAAAAA…"
You come crashing full speed into a tree. Leaves flash by and branches scratch you. Somehow you spin around backward and in one instant, *CRACK* all momentum stops as you land squarely on a large branch, back first. Your spine is cracked in two. Blood shoots from your mouth like a fountain. Such was the force of the fall, most of your organs ruptured. Looks like the drop wasn't a clean kill; you will now die in pain from heavy internal bleeding.
You slide off the branch slowly and come crashing down an additional ten feet to the undergrowth below. You are lying on the ground looking up towards the tree that killed you. Every inch of you hurts. Sparks dance around as your body discharges the remaining energy you have. Large globs of blood flow from your mouth like water from a spring. You shake and convulse and the horrific gurgling sounds fill the air as your lungs, now soft and squishy, try unsuccessfully to get air past the endless blood. The only good news, you only have a minute or two left in this world.
The pidgeotto comes into view. She has landed and is now looming over her fresh kill with a content look while licking her beak; it says it all; she is enjoying watching her meal die a little too much. She pipes up, “good, you’re still alive. It's no fun when they go down dead. I mean, I’m not opposed to it; it is just not as enjoyable. Just got to wait for those pesky sparks to die down.” Even in victory, the pidgeotto is not content to just let you die in peace. She will bury you alive in a feathery tomb before your body grows cold so you will know exactly your fate. Those pesky sparks crackle once more then stop.
Cheerfully, the pidgeotto sings, “dinner time!” just as your mother would with an arm full of berries. She opens her beak and you can see deep into the strangely welcoming maw. The beak drips with strands of saliva. Inside, it is pink but with each concentric throat ring, fades to a deeper red until it is nearly black. It smells of fish, rodent, and vomit, a pungent odor you will soon help develop. The beak snaps down on your head and she lifts you from the ground. She tosses you around until you are lined up straight, staring down a hungry gullet; every toss sends extreme pain through your bruised and battered body. Why does it have to end like this? The pidgeotto begins rubbing her rough tongue all over you, slathering you in thick saliva. You must taste good because she ruffles her feathers and lets out a, ”mmmmmm,” forcing a fishy gut smell in your face.
The pidgeotto tilts her head high to the sky and you slide into the red void. You can’t even express your terror as you sink deeper. The gullet, like a fleshy warm bag, opens wide. The pidgeotto makes four quick head thrusts and you sink deeper into your tomb. The pidgeotto closes her beak and everything goes dark. You are now fully ensnared in your killer. Everything but your tail is now on the inside. The flesh bag tightens around you and becomes slippery with recently swallowed saliva. The bird of prey tilts its head to the sky and...
*GLK*
The powerful gullet transports its prey downward, helped by the gentle oscillating movements of the pidgeotto’s head. The walls squeeze tight around you, making the broken bones crackle as they unnaturally rub against one another. It only takes a few seconds before you empty into a strange hole. You plop down to the bottom but are unable to move. This isn’t the stomach, at least you think. There isn’t any acid and it doesn’t gurgle or churn but something deeper inside is. A deep thudding of a calm happy heart sings to you. You lay there motionless, other than a twitching ear, hoping death would already take you.
A booming voice rings out from the throat, “it’s been a while since I last ate so nothing is waiting in the queue. Let’s get down to business.” You feel the hole tighten around you and it pulls you even deeper.
The light fades and everything goes dark. This is it, your final journey. It won’t end at the top of Thunder Mountain but in a hot burning bird gut. It can’t end like this, can it? But it will; nothing will save you now. Your tenderized body is squeezed by the tight esophagus and you slide quickly the rest of the way.
“Ahhhhhhh,” the pidgeotto lets out, declaring victory. You fall into a pool of burning acids, face first, and are submerged in digestive juices. The shape of the stomach is like a tube and the walls snuggle in close around you. The pidgeotto coos and clicks her beak in pleasure, telling the world of her recently satiated hunger, made so by a plump hapless adventurer.
Now securely in the stomach, you give up all hope, giving in to the dread that has been building in you ever since the pidgeotto first caught you. No denying it or fighting it, you're nothing but food now. How could anything on the inside of a stomach argue any different?
Above the loud digestive noises you hear, “good little pikachu, right where you should be. I’m sorry I had to drop you first. I love when they struggle and scream. But I couldn’t risk the shock. At least you were alive when you met my gut. You’ll miss being alive for the gizzard though, the best part too. Oh well. Look at me, talking to my food again as though they matter. I’m above that. A good little mouse dinner makes me sleepy.” She yawns loud. “Time to go home and sleep her off.”
The deep thudding of wings reverberates in the killer bird’s body; she’s flying again. No risk of falling now. The next time she releases you from this height, you won’t be yellow and black pika, but white and black goo. While she flies, the gut works its magic, churning, contracting, secreting acids, and singing a merry tune. The acid has now worked its way deep into your fur and burns. With each churn of the stomach, it eats away just a little more skin, softening its meal. Finally, your body is giving up on life. Your ears ring, muffling the gut’s gurgles and groans. Your body grows cold and numb. This is it; as you fade, a peace washes over you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The majestic pidgeotto soars through the air. The day has been a bust so far. She has been hunting the south-central forest looking for anything. An ekans, a rattata, a vulpix, hell she would even settle for a caterpie at this point, but her talons and gut remain empty. The last month has been rough. She lost her mate and the grief has greatly affected her hunting skills. She should have caught a rattata but the little fucker managed to get in his burrow before talons plucked him from the ground. A botched kill on her part. She missed the initial strike and gave him a second chance. All because her mind has been clouded by heartache.
The pidgeotto has changed her plans; maybe fishing will prove more fruitful. She is headed to her favorite fishing spot, the Crooked Tree. As she is heading north, her keen eye catches a glint of yellow. She looks down to see a lone pikachu wandering the forest, too far south to be in the pikachu’s territory. She disappears behind the thick forest canopy. From this height, the pidgeotto would not have seen the pikachu if she was anything other than a pikachu; the yellow fur gives them away. But the pidgeotto reserves her excitement. Pikachu almost always get away from her. And with how the pidgeotto’s luck has been recently, this one will probably be no different. But she has to at least try, as she always does with pikachu. They taste too good to pass up without a check on their electricity. She begins her descent.
Years of practice have honed her hunting of pikachu. When she was a young pidgeotto, she would clasp the talons into the pikachu’s neck. If the talon digs into the jugular and serves the main artery, the pikachu doesn’t have enough time to electrocute; but, if it misses, even by an inch, the pikachu’s natural instincts will kick in and the pidgeotto will get a nasty shock. She could probably land the kill ninety percent of the time but she failed the clean kill once a few years ago and she swore never to try it again. The pikachu died and she ate him but the electrocution paralyzed her for a week, keeping her on the ground. Her mate luckily found her and kept her safe and fed her while she recovered but it could have gone very differently. And now that she doesn’t have a mate, she definitely cannot risk it.
The strategy she will employ on this pikachu hardly ever works. If you pick a pikachu up and start flying away with them, there will be a moment where they are stunned by the change in their elevation. If the pidgeotto can get them high enough off the ground, she can drop-kill them. But pikachu are fairly smart and usually realize what she is trying to do before she can get high enough. But occasionally a dense pikachu won’t until it is too late.
If neither of those work, she’s shit out of luck. That is unless the pikachu is out of electricity, then they are good as a rattata. Those are special kills; eating prey alive, especially pikachu, is so much fun. But it has only happened twice in her life. Maybe, just maybe, it will happen here, however unlikely it may be. She can hope.
She circles around and glides over the treetops. She knows this area well, and the pikachu is heading towards a small clearing. It will be tight, but there will be a window where she can grab the pikachu. She sees flashes of the little yellow mouse beneath the canopy. ‘That’s it, keep walking.’ The pikachu enters the clearing. Now is her time. She expels any thoughts of her sorrow that have been holding her back. This could be a turning point for her. If she can kill this pikachu, it might cheer her up enough that she can move on from her grief. Her mind is focused and sharp, just as it was before the loss of her mate.
The pidgeotto arches high into the air and comes diving down towards the prey. The pikachu doesn’t see the shadow until it's too late. The pidgeotto lunges its talons forward and clasp them gently around the furry body. She ascends as quickly as she can, while waiting to hear the pikachu try to Thundershock, but nothing happens. The pidgeotto gets to the treetops and a late-day heat thermal launches her up another hundred feet. Looks like her luck has changed; pikachu is on the menu tonight.
She looks down on the foolish pikachu, "oh little pikachu, you fucked up. You must be dumber than the average of your kind. That's good, I really need a pick-me-up."
The look on the face of the pikachu says she now realizes her mistake.
Silly thing tries to Thundershock now, "pika-"
"Bye," she opens her talons.
"PIKAAAaaaaaaaaa…" The sound of dinner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thus, ending your story. You failed to realize what the pidgeotto’s intent was until it was too late. Gravity did the easy work of killing you. After stewing in stomach acid, your body was sent to the gizzard where it was crushed into a soft ball of meat then melted by powerful acids, turning you into a nutritious soup. Your life amounted to nothing more than one night of a full happy gut for a hungry pidgeotto. You are forgotten by the tribe as just another member lost to the foreboding wilderness. As for the pidgeotto, she remembers you but only vaguely. In the same way someone would remember an excellent meal, fuzzy on the details but fond of the experience. You leave no legacy. But hey, at least you got to see the world from a bird’s eye view!
