"Da sea simple 'ting, boi."
It was a clam, peaceful day in the waters of Ruula. Even far, far out in the untamed oceans it was an easy, sunny moment. Wingull, and Pellipeppers squawked, and dove at various water-types who got a little too close to the surface, while a school of Goldeen blissfully skimmed by the only surface for leagues. A Regicide Deep Sea Platform. An ugly steel, and wood affair, very clearly man made, and horribly out of place.
It obviously didn't belong, but that didn't stop the thugs who financed, moved, and operated it. Neither did ethics, morals, or laws.
It was simply massive, adorned with nets, sensors, three docked submersibles, several motorboats just in case, and four tall towers forming a small square in the middle of the floating wooden deck. Those on board milled around, checking equipment, tapping away on tablets, or even sunbathing. It was another hour before the Sonar Charges were ready to drop'n'det, so the entire operation was rather relaxed.
"She go sof silk ta storm in secon."
With no warning however, clouds began to roll in from all directions, and as if on cue, the winds picked up. Just off the port side a large stretch of water began to roil, and newly forming waves lapped against the floating structure. The net crews glanced around among themselves, apprehensive as always. Poaching sea-faring Pokemon was not the safest of tasks, and precaution kept you alive. One of the team captains had the good sense to produce his walkie-talkie, and page into one of the control towers.
"Did we have a storm on the forecast this afternoon, Skipper?" He laughed a little, a cruel, salt-strained rumbling.
"Negative, T1L. Clear skies all week, but you know the drill."
"Yeah, I know. Occasionally somethin' feisty gets stirred up, and decides to make it rain. Sonar picking anything up?"
"Negative T1L, we can't see anything on the de-..That's odd..."
The old sailor raised an eyebrow, the grip on his walkie-talkie tightening as concern crept into his gruff voice. "What's odd?"
"I'm getting something surfacing, it looks like it's coming fro- Oh. Oh fuck."
The crew-leader was about to inquire further when the entire deck lurched violently, sending him to his knees.
"So I telling ya what my fadda tol me age go. Him tell me,"
An alarm began to sound, and as if in response the wind had picked up once more, much more quickly than it should've been able to. It was swirling now as well, a very bad omen. The station shook again, as the bloody howls of the wind passed through the structure, echoing with malice. Something was incredibly wrong, and everybody felt it. Crewmen began to scramble for the inner towers, but a final solid lurch of the deck stopped those plans in their tracks.
Too much was going wrong at once, this was no mere accident. Something was ramming the deck, and had managed to split a chunk off port side, while the damned wind speed was doubling nearly every second, on track to become an earnest gale. By now everyone was in full crisis mode, the station wide radio signal broadcasting a warning.
"Hostile Pokemon in the vicinity. Source of storm unknown, but sonar has picked up a Gyarados."
Panic was full blown now.
"Da sea kill boi like ya fasta den I breath. So remember dis, alway.."
It was too late for the men working the nets, two full scale Twisters had formed just off the starboard side of the Platform. As the men raced towards the structures again, towards any semblance of shelter, the Gyarados rammed the deck once again. The violent jolt sending them slipping, scrambling, or flying right into the Twisters, or sea. Someone on deck, probably one of the scientists, identified the threat, and relayed it with a terrified shout - "Kingdra!"
"Respeck it tru, but alway be ready ta kill it firs, 'fore it kill ya."
Siren's blared, sailors, and scientists alike screamed curses, clawed to get towards any of the Command Towers, pushing, and scrapping, and kicking at eachother for a straight shot to safety, but it was all in vain. Over, and over the Gyarados battered the station from below, while the malicious twisters closed in on the deck. It didn't take long for men, and women on the edges to be drawn into the ice cold, salty grasp of the ocean. And while lifelines, life jackets, and strong swimming skills kept them from drowning, or drifting out, nothing could've saved them.
A wave of screams washed over the structure, short, and filled with agony. Then swiftly silence. The waters all around turned a deep, dark red.
"Member dat, Vamutu. 'Member dat very good. Da sea show ya no mercy, boi..."
A school of hungry Sharpedo had made it's way into the fray. The beasts were more than happy to gorge themselves on the human flotsam, and jetsam. The once calm day had quickly turned into a horror show.
"So ya don't go showin' any mercy yaself."
And this was only the beginning.