Turns out, I'm still not quite in full swing with this fanfic stuff, but I'm trying. This happens a bit before the prologue of Shades of Grey, and follows members of my version of Team Rocket that reformed Team Rocket three years after Giovanni's defeat.
December Clouds
Chapter 1
Things were getting tense, and fast. December began picking up the pace, as he walked
towards the doors. He felt a feeling in his stomach unlike he had ever felt. It wasn’t the
sick feeling of being nervous, no. It was more of a pain; the soreness of an open wound,
deep and hollow. He looked up towards the ceiling, still walking at a brisk pace. It was
the feeling of total emptiness.
The doors slid open, and a bright flash of light blinded him. He lifted his arm to cover
his eyes while his retinas stung. He forced his eyes open, when the cold air hit him. It
was just becoming dark, and the final phase of the sunset had begun. The peaceful
moment was soon disturbed by huge spotlights raining down upon the small town.
December approached the balcony edge slowly, gazing down upon the village from the
sky fleet. They don’t know what’s going to happen. These words ran through his mind
over and over, repeating themselves as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. He had never
been this upset over a mission, ever. He had stolen Pokémon before, but for some reason,
this mission was hanging over him like the gaze of a demon. Why couldn’t he do this?
His moment of questioning himself was over. He saw the chain ladders descend, and he
knew there was no turning back. A familiar voice spoke out. The voice was cold and
hollow; dried of all emotion as it was replaced with pain.
“C’mon, they won’t know what hit ‘em” said the man. He was tall and thin, and what
little of his skin that could be seen through holes in his chest piece was pale white. He
wore a tight-fitting, plated vest with deep gashes and holes in it. His arms were covered
with a dull gray chainmail, and he wore gloves that were fitted with spikes on the back of
each hand. A tight-fitting pair of armored greaves, riddled with spikes and leather straps,
was also worn by him. He had thick and heavy boots with pointed tips that were stained
a dark crimson red. October always creeped him out, but it was the mask that always got
him. Every time December looked up at his “face”, he felt the gaze of a sick, twisted,
and disturbed man. The mask was pitch-black, except for a glowing orange marking that
resembled Spiritomb’s face. It was held together with tarnished leather straps that looked
as if they had sealed away a long forgotten corpse of a man. Long orange hair fell to the
middle of his back, and was the only part of himself that he had willingly shown.
December looked around, and nodded.
“I’m ready. Tell September to commence with the operation.”
October let out a horrifying chuckle, and turned around as the doors slid open. December
looked towards the sky, small twinkling star beginning to appear through the fading
clouds. The emptiness was gone; but he had the ache of a deep regret to run through his
veins.
They were on the ground, and his whole body was shaking madly. “You’re pathetic, get
yourself under control!” he said to himself over and over again. His ineffective ritual was
soon halted by a loud crash, as he spun around and saw a grunt bashing in a door. He had
kicked it in, and it began to splinter as he delivered another relentless kick. His third and
final attempt was met with success, as light flooded from inside the small house. A loud
shriek of a young girl was let out, as he charged in. December ran into the house, the
grunt standing besides a Raticate.
“Grrah! Use Hyper Fang!” the grunt shouted, with blood lust in his eyes. The large rat
Pokémon leapt towards the small girl, when a man jumped in front of her. The
Pokémon’s teeth buried themselves in the man’s stomach, as they ripped apart when the
Pokémon jumped back. The man let out a grunt of pain, and fell to the floor with his
hand covering the wound. Blood pooled around him, and began to seep into the wooden
floor. The little girl ran forward and fell to her father’s side, warm, salty water dripping
from her face and onto the man’s unresponsive body.
“No! Daddy, please! Wake up, me and Slomie need you!” she cried relentlessly as the
mother stood back, her face frozen with shock. The grunt chuckled, as he rushed forward
and grabbed a dopey-looking Slowpoke that had been at the little girls side.
“No! Don’t take Slowmie! Give me back Daddy! Please, mister, don’t take both of
them!” she bawled as she ran up to the grunt, only to fall to her knees. She lifted her
arms and began swinging them at his legs, to no effect.
“I’m gonna save Slowmie and Mommy! An’ then I’m gonna help Daddy!” her voice
choking with sobs. The grunt dropped the Pokémon, smiled, and looked kneeled down
next to the little girl. Making a gesture to help her up, the grunt smiled again. The little
girl’s eyes stopped quivering for a moment, as she looked up at his face. The grunt’s
false gesture of kindness was replaced with a palm that came rocketing towards the girl.
It struck the girl’s check, and as she fell over, her eyes welled while her cheek stung with
soreness.
December felt disgusted. He approached the grunt, and let out a swift blow to his
stomach, his knuckles planting themselves deep in his lower torso. The grunt stammered
backwards, looked up at December, and charged, fists cutting through the air. December
grabbed his arm and twisted, snapping it instantly. The grunt fell to the floor, and cried
out in pain.
“R-r-raticate! Urnngh… Get him!” he choked.
The Raticate remained still, its small eyes looking back at his. The stolen Pokémon
was obviously oblivious to the man’s pain, and could care less if he was hurt. The
grunt remained gasping in pain on the ground, as the mother slowly kneeled at her
daughter. Her eyes began to quiver, as she looked up at December.
“You can’t kill us… You can’t! We didn’t do anything wrong, why are you doing
this to us?!” she screamed as her eyes closed. December stepped towards the
woman, and spoke.
“I’m Team Rocket. I kill what I want.”
The woman shook her head in defiance and wrapped herself around the little girl.
“No, Please! Don’t hurt us! Don’t hurt my baby…!” her voice trailed off.
December looked down at her auburn colored eyes. They were deep and beautiful;
caring. He backed up towards the now unconscious grunt, and rolled his body over
with his foot. He looked back at the woman, whose tears had suddenly vanished.
“I kill what I want” he smiled, as his foot came plummeting down on the grunt’s
neck.
December Clouds
Chapter 1
Things were getting tense, and fast. December began picking up the pace, as he walked
towards the doors. He felt a feeling in his stomach unlike he had ever felt. It wasn’t the
sick feeling of being nervous, no. It was more of a pain; the soreness of an open wound,
deep and hollow. He looked up towards the ceiling, still walking at a brisk pace. It was
the feeling of total emptiness.
The doors slid open, and a bright flash of light blinded him. He lifted his arm to cover
his eyes while his retinas stung. He forced his eyes open, when the cold air hit him. It
was just becoming dark, and the final phase of the sunset had begun. The peaceful
moment was soon disturbed by huge spotlights raining down upon the small town.
December approached the balcony edge slowly, gazing down upon the village from the
sky fleet. They don’t know what’s going to happen. These words ran through his mind
over and over, repeating themselves as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. He had never
been this upset over a mission, ever. He had stolen Pokémon before, but for some reason,
this mission was hanging over him like the gaze of a demon. Why couldn’t he do this?
His moment of questioning himself was over. He saw the chain ladders descend, and he
knew there was no turning back. A familiar voice spoke out. The voice was cold and
hollow; dried of all emotion as it was replaced with pain.
“C’mon, they won’t know what hit ‘em” said the man. He was tall and thin, and what
little of his skin that could be seen through holes in his chest piece was pale white. He
wore a tight-fitting, plated vest with deep gashes and holes in it. His arms were covered
with a dull gray chainmail, and he wore gloves that were fitted with spikes on the back of
each hand. A tight-fitting pair of armored greaves, riddled with spikes and leather straps,
was also worn by him. He had thick and heavy boots with pointed tips that were stained
a dark crimson red. October always creeped him out, but it was the mask that always got
him. Every time December looked up at his “face”, he felt the gaze of a sick, twisted,
and disturbed man. The mask was pitch-black, except for a glowing orange marking that
resembled Spiritomb’s face. It was held together with tarnished leather straps that looked
as if they had sealed away a long forgotten corpse of a man. Long orange hair fell to the
middle of his back, and was the only part of himself that he had willingly shown.
December looked around, and nodded.
“I’m ready. Tell September to commence with the operation.”
October let out a horrifying chuckle, and turned around as the doors slid open. December
looked towards the sky, small twinkling star beginning to appear through the fading
clouds. The emptiness was gone; but he had the ache of a deep regret to run through his
veins.
They were on the ground, and his whole body was shaking madly. “You’re pathetic, get
yourself under control!” he said to himself over and over again. His ineffective ritual was
soon halted by a loud crash, as he spun around and saw a grunt bashing in a door. He had
kicked it in, and it began to splinter as he delivered another relentless kick. His third and
final attempt was met with success, as light flooded from inside the small house. A loud
shriek of a young girl was let out, as he charged in. December ran into the house, the
grunt standing besides a Raticate.
“Grrah! Use Hyper Fang!” the grunt shouted, with blood lust in his eyes. The large rat
Pokémon leapt towards the small girl, when a man jumped in front of her. The
Pokémon’s teeth buried themselves in the man’s stomach, as they ripped apart when the
Pokémon jumped back. The man let out a grunt of pain, and fell to the floor with his
hand covering the wound. Blood pooled around him, and began to seep into the wooden
floor. The little girl ran forward and fell to her father’s side, warm, salty water dripping
from her face and onto the man’s unresponsive body.
“No! Daddy, please! Wake up, me and Slomie need you!” she cried relentlessly as the
mother stood back, her face frozen with shock. The grunt chuckled, as he rushed forward
and grabbed a dopey-looking Slowpoke that had been at the little girls side.
“No! Don’t take Slowmie! Give me back Daddy! Please, mister, don’t take both of
them!” she bawled as she ran up to the grunt, only to fall to her knees. She lifted her
arms and began swinging them at his legs, to no effect.
“I’m gonna save Slowmie and Mommy! An’ then I’m gonna help Daddy!” her voice
choking with sobs. The grunt dropped the Pokémon, smiled, and looked kneeled down
next to the little girl. Making a gesture to help her up, the grunt smiled again. The little
girl’s eyes stopped quivering for a moment, as she looked up at his face. The grunt’s
false gesture of kindness was replaced with a palm that came rocketing towards the girl.
It struck the girl’s check, and as she fell over, her eyes welled while her cheek stung with
soreness.
December felt disgusted. He approached the grunt, and let out a swift blow to his
stomach, his knuckles planting themselves deep in his lower torso. The grunt stammered
backwards, looked up at December, and charged, fists cutting through the air. December
grabbed his arm and twisted, snapping it instantly. The grunt fell to the floor, and cried
out in pain.
“R-r-raticate! Urnngh… Get him!” he choked.
The Raticate remained still, its small eyes looking back at his. The stolen Pokémon
was obviously oblivious to the man’s pain, and could care less if he was hurt. The
grunt remained gasping in pain on the ground, as the mother slowly kneeled at her
daughter. Her eyes began to quiver, as she looked up at December.
“You can’t kill us… You can’t! We didn’t do anything wrong, why are you doing
this to us?!” she screamed as her eyes closed. December stepped towards the
woman, and spoke.
“I’m Team Rocket. I kill what I want.”
The woman shook her head in defiance and wrapped herself around the little girl.
“No, Please! Don’t hurt us! Don’t hurt my baby…!” her voice trailed off.
December looked down at her auburn colored eyes. They were deep and beautiful;
caring. He backed up towards the now unconscious grunt, and rolled his body over
with his foot. He looked back at the woman, whose tears had suddenly vanished.
“I kill what I want” he smiled, as his foot came plummeting down on the grunt’s
neck.